


Remembering to Breathe

by Xparrot



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Grief, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-18
Updated: 2006-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-09 15:24:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 51,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xparrot/pseuds/Xparrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shattered by loss, the Sanzo ikkou must recover themselves, or else face annihilation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mourning: Red

**Author's Note:**

> This time I'm indulging my love of angst. Ah, angst.

It was the fourth bar in as many nights, and the last this pathetic excuse for a town had to offer. After the last three nights the doors of the others were closed to him. After tonight, this one's would be as well, gold card or no.

They had already suggested he leave twice. The first man just had bruises to show for it; the second, a sprained wrist. Or maybe broken. Gojyo wasn't sure. He misjudged his strength when he was drunk.

Only he wasn't. Not really. Not enough. He called for another bottle. Vodka, this time. Cold and clear, back to the basics.

The bartender studied the collection of empty carafes next to the filled ashtray, said, hesitantly, "Sir, perhaps you've had enough..."

Gojyo raised his head, slowly; it was too heavy to jerk up. He watched the man recoil with bitter amusement. Late night, with the only illumination from the dim gold bulbs above the bar, he knew how his eyes looked. In daylight he could pass for human; the sun softened their hue to rich mahogany. But at night they were blood red.

Or maybe it was something else in his face that made the man shy back. "Vodka," he said, enunciating each syllable carefully. "Your best."

"Yes, sir," and the barman scuttled off, muttering under his breath. Cursing him out, most likely. Fuck him. Where else was he supposed to go? Only four bars in this gods-forsaken town. And no way he was going back to the inn, not with the kid's gold eyes watching, watching too damn quietly, even his "I'm hungry"s were subdued. Not loud enough to pick a fight over. Not even enough that Sanzo brought out the fan.

Not that Sanzo had done anything at all since signing them into the inn. Just sat there burning through one pack after another, until even with open window the room was filled with smoke and even Gojyo coughed on it. He hadn't slept at all, Goku had said, which after a hundred hours was going beyond sheer stubbornness and becoming completely impossible. Not that he would put it past the monk.

That wasn't for him. Gojyo had no interest in being awake. But there didn't seem to be enough liquor in the whole damn town to put him down. He kept waking barely past dawn, would lie there and pretend he wasn't, until the monkeyboy finally would notice and drag him down to a breakfast he wouldn't be able to stomach. Afterwards he would leave Goku to fuss over the monk and the dragon, and go walk the dull marketplace with all its worthless trinkets and rotting fruits, until the bars opened and he found his way to one which wouldn't lock him out.

Sure the hell was easier to toss over the credit card than gamble for cash. There were card games going on in the corner here, as there had been in the other three, but he ignored them, all the cheating and bickering and scrabbling for a few coins you'd only lose tomorrow, or the night after that. No one keeps on Lady Luck's good side forever.

The bartender bustled back, planted the vodka bottle on the bar in front of him and set a shot glass beside it. Gojyo smirked at him. "Thanks, my good man."

His manners earned him a tight-lipped nod, and the man retreated. Gojyo picked up the bottle, squinted at the label, but the room was too hazy for him make it out. Probably garbage; everything in this bar was shit. But booze was booze. He shrugged, poured the clear liquid into the glass and gulped it down. Swallow before it killed the nose or tastebuds, that was the key. Drink fast enough and you could almost believe it was plain water.

As he filled the glass again he noticed the bartender at the other end of the bar, head close to a lovely young red-head. Not real red like his, but orange curls, shimmering brown and gold in alternating light and shadow as the girl nodded, round made-up face turning toward him. He raised the shot to her before drinking. This ploy he knew; use honey if force won't get rid of them. But it was more to his advantage than the bouncers.

Gojyo watched her saunter over, losing himself for a moment in the sway of her hips. He had at least had enough that all women looked fine, but then, that never took much. And she would be a beauty anyway. Better without the blush and powder hiding the bags under her eyes, but whores took a lot of crap in a town this small.

"Hey, boy, looking for something to do after this dump closes?" she purred as she slid onto the stool next to his.

He looked her up and down again, smiled slightly. "Don't see any boy here."

"Don't tell me you think only a man can hold his drink," she said, and plucking the glass from his fingers she downed the next shot.

Gojyo leaned over, close enough to smell her perfumed hair. Lilac and strawberries, bad combination, and too strong. But the curls were soft against his cheek. "You take credit card, huh?"

"What kind of girl do you think I am?" she whispered back, her lips almost brushing his ear. Then she tossed back her mane, pushed out her chest and smiled at him. "But no. This one's on the house."

His mouth quirked. "And I thought it was my charm." He picked up the bottle, stood. "Sorry. I never buy. Even when there's someone else paying." Then he leaned down to her again, muttered, "But don't tell him that," and he tilted his head toward the bartender, keeping a surreptitious surveillance on them. "Walk out with me and you can come by tomorrow, pick up your price for the job. I'd double it, if I were you--I'm difficult to satisfy."

Her grin made him revise his estimate of her age a few years down, and he was that much gladder that he had refused. Though it would have been nice, having something warm in bed. Maybe would help sleep come a little easier.

The shithole of a bar didn't even have level floors, he realized as he headed for the door. He hadn't noticed when he had come in, but now they were slanting at a different angle with every step he took. Then the girl was next to him, ducking under his arm to pull him upright. "Whoa, there," she said. "So you can't hold it after all?" Before he could protest she was walking him toward the door, guiding him down the only safe, flat path the bar must have. And she had his vodka. He made to grab it back but she held it out of reach, shook her head. "You're just gonna drop it."

"Like hell I would," he snarled, suddenly furious. "You sayin' I'm drunk?"

"Boy, you are wasted."

He laughed, and even to his ears it sounded weirdly hollow. "I fucking wish. If I were then I wouldn't have to be working this hard to..."

She was staring at him, her eyes open wide, and in the murky light they were...

..green...

He blinked and they were hazel, muddy puddles of olive and bronze, not that pure, deep evergreen of a winter fir. So green you could see it even in moonlight, even in a dark room.

He hadn't seen the knife come down. Gojyo had looked up just in time to see the light leave those green eyes as he fell, and then there was no color but the red of his blood, spreading over the floor...

He was going to be sick. Pushing the girl away he staggered to the door, barely made it outside before he was, noisily and painfully. Afterwards he leaned against the rough plaster wall. The night breeze was cool on his face, but not comforting, and his stomach still churned.

Twice, this made it, that a blow he hadn't seen coming had ended his life without even touching him. His brother had been crying, but this killer had been masked. Professional.

Gojyo ran his hand over his face. Sweat, but no tears, not this time. He didn't know how to cry anymore. Even wasted. Not one of those fucking sappy drunks, sobbing in his cups. He laughed again. A harsh sound in the night, but least he still could do that.

"Hey?" The smoke and clamor of the bar accompanied the girl into the street, and then the door swung shut and the night was quiet again. "You okay, boy?"

"Don't call me that," he said, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to see what color hers were in the darkness. He rocked his spinning head back against the wall. "Won't be called that by a whore who could be my little sister."

He deserved a slap for that, or a kick, but none came. But she was still there when he opened his eyes, standing there a couple feet in front of him with a strange look on her face. "What's wrong?" she asked. "What happened to you?"

"What happened to me? Nothing happened to me. I'm still alive, aren't I?" He had to be. He could hear himself breathing.

"You didn't seem like a bad guy. I thought you'd maybe gotten dumped or something," she said. "But there's really something wrong with you."

"No, you're right. I just got dumped. That's all." _'This is the second time someone good looking leaves me.' 'Did you sulk?' 'Kind of...' _

She opened her mouth, but before she said anything shadows materialized out of the alley behind him. Seven total, and the biggest towered over him. Then the girl stepped in front of him, spread her arms. "You guys get out of here," she said. "He doesn't have anything."

"That's not what my brother said," one of the men replied. "He said this guy's been waving around a damn gold card. He saw it--before loverboy here broke his arm."

Gojyo shoved himself off the wall, with difficulty found his footing on the cobblestone. "And you want a break to match. Isn't that cute."

"Don't!" the girl protested. "You can't fight them--"

"Watch me."

"Get outa the way, girlie," one of the others spat, and something long and thin came whistling out of the darkness. Snake? he thought blankly, and then whip lashed around his legs and yanked him to the ground with a thud. He picked himself up in time to roll out of the way of a second strike.

The girl cried out as the whip cut her cheek, and the half-youkai snarled and leapt for the guy wielding it. His roundhouse punch knocked that man down, but off-balanced Gojyo enough that he fell too. Sprawled on the ground, he shook his head groggily, cursing the lazy spiral the world was turning around him. Maybe the vodka had been overkill--

"Behind you!" screamed the girl, and he threw himself to the side, narrowly dodging the long blade's downward stab. The swordsman smiled at him, bloodthirsty as any mad youkai, drew back for another strike, and damn it, the girl was crying. He hated that. He particularly hated it because he suspected she might be crying for him, and the thought that he might have caused a woman to shed tears enraged him enough that he ducked out of the sword's sweeping path, lunged up and slammed his fist into the man's solar plexus.

He went down, hard. But the girl was still wailing, and as out of the corner of his eyes he saw three more men charging him, metal gleaming in their hands, Gojyo realized she might have reason to.

Sudden, unexpected light cut a swathe through the attackers, who gasped and choked as something rammed them in the gut. As they fell around him, Gojyo blearily blinked up at the figure in their midst, smaller than any of the men, and the diadem nestled in his brown hair gleamed gold.

"You didn't have to save so many for me," Goku complained, twirling around Nyoibou to crack one of the two men still standing sharply on the crown. Before he had hit the ground, the kid had disposed of the last one with three punches as rapid as jackhammers. Then he looked at the girl. "You okay?"

She nodded dumbly, and he went to Gojyo, gave him a hand up and steadied him when the world persisted in spinning. He groaned, concentrated on not throwing up. Couldn't be much left in there anyway.

"Where'd they hit you?" and the kid actually sounded scared.

"They didn't, I don't think," the girl said. "He's just dead drunk. You his friend?"

"Yeah," said Goku, not even hesitating.

"You should've come get him sooner," the girl told him, like she was scolding a little brother. "He's really messed up."

"I know." Goku sounded downright miserable. "I thought...I knew where he had to be, this was the only bar left, so since I didn't have to go looking everywhere I thought I could wait...I didn't think he'd get into this much trouble."

"Guy like him, he doesn't need to look for trouble. It'll come right for him. Sharks can smell blood on land, too." The girl sighed. "You got your work cut out for you, keeping him."

Which was bullshit, he didn't need anyone to take care of him. He hadn't for years. Maybe he wanted it, but it was never going to happen, that's not what life is, there is no such thing as security, and only a complete moron would ever believe there is. And why the hell were they talking like he wasn't even there? With difficulty he raised his head--Goku was too damn short, leaning on him like this he had to look up to meet the girl's gaze. But he gave her his best grin anyway. "Hey, everything's okay. Met you, didn't I?"

He heard Goku mutter, "Ero-gappa," and for a single moment everything was normal, as it should be.

She shook her head, and her hair hid her eyes. Then she bent and kissed him, lightly, on the forehead, like a mother with a sick kid. "Take care of yourself, boy," she murmured, and she was gone. He wondered if she had gone back to the bar, or was taking his suggestion and returning tomorrow. Didn't matter. He wouldn't be going back there again.

They had to get out of this town. It was too damn small. Not enough bars.

Not enough alcohol. He still remembered. Not just the blood. The crimson strands which got in his eyes were always a reminder of that. He was used to it by now.

But there were three years that had fooled him into believing happiness was more than an abstract concept, and months after that which he had mistaken for something even better. Those he could forget. Those he would do anything to forget.

He wasn't sick again, but wished he were. There was a weight in his chest that he couldn't expel, and his head was whirling.

"Come on," said Goku, bearing him up resignedly. "We have to get back to the inn. You need to sleep, and Sanzo will want more cigarettes."

"Can't deny the great Sanzo-sama his smokes," Gojyo mumbled, around a tongue which seemed to have become only an obstacle in his mouth.

"At least I don't have to go out looking for him."

Gojyo was too drunk to have any good answer to that. "Sorry," he said. "I'm sorry."

He could feel the kid's shoulders rise and fall in a sigh. "It's okay," Goku said, as if he didn't know that it wasn't, and never would be again. "Let's just go back," and they began making their slow way down the dark street.


	2. Mourning: Violet

Stay awake long enough and you'll forget what sleeping even is.

Sanzo lit another cigarette. Outside the window the town was dark, no streetlamps, only a few lights glowing in the houses across the way. Everyone retired early here; an hour after sunset all respectable citizens were off the streets. Probably a recent tradition, since the town's walls weren't nearly high enough to hold off a determined youkai attack. They hadn't seen any youkai since they arrived, but they had taken out that group only a few miles outside. Maybe there weren't any others nearby. He wondered how long it would take for the townsfolk to consider themselves safe again.

His fingers stung and he glanced down, realized the cigarette had burned down to the butt without him taking a single drag. Not bothering to curse, he stubbed it out in the packed ashtray, withdrew another and lit up again. This time he inhaled a deep breath of smoke, held it for a moment before exhaling and felt the slight charge of the nicotine. It was as distant as anything else was now. Even coffee only made things more vivid, not any less dreamlike. The orange tip of the cigarette inscribed a lingering afterimage in the air, fading character from an unknown script.

He heard footsteps on the creaking inn stairs, stumbling, and then a thud in the hall outside of someone falling. The door clattered open, hinges protesting, but Sanzo didn't look away from the window, just listened to Goku's steady murmur, "C'mon, Gojyo, almost there, just a little further, the bed's right here--"

"I c'n see th'bed, saru," Gojyo said thickly, and Sanzo wondered just how much alcohol had been charged to the Three Aspects tonight. Even if the half-youkai didn't object to the cheap shit, to have had enough to reduce him to this state...he had swiped the card every night since they had arrived in this town, and Sanzo hadn't tried to stop him. Goku always got it back to buy for himself, otherwise Sanzo would have to be procuring the ape's feed.

"If you can see it, then lie down, kappa," Goku growled, not at all his usual whine, and there was the thump of a body being pushed over onto the mattress. Gojyo mumbled something unintelligible, but didn't sound like he was trying to get up again. Or even capable, for that matter.

Footsteps behind him, and a hand extended into his line of sight, dropped two packs of Marlboros and the gold card onto the windowsill. "Here," Goku said.

He had brought four the night before. Two would barely last Sanzo until morning. But it wasn't worth the effort of complaining. "How much trouble did the other idiot get into?"

Gojyo was snoring already. Goku looked back over his shoulder at him. Sanzo didn't bother turning his head that far, only enough to watch the gold eyes squint in irritation. "He got thrown out of the last bar. And then some guys jumped him in an alley."

"Hn. He didn't kill any of them, did he?" The last thing they needed was to be run out of town on a murder charge.

Goku shook his head. "No...more like they almost...well, he didn't get hurt, and they didn't, too much. Sanzo, will Hakuryuu be better by tomorrow?"

"How the hell should I know?" He glanced across the room at the box of rags, the little white dragon nestled among them, bandaged wings closed against its sides, still sleeping. Hakuryuu had been their primary incentive for making it to a larger town, and the animal doctor here had been a help, but even once its injuries had been tended to it had been difficult for the man to say how long it would take to recover. Dragons weren't normal beasts--a regular animal wouldn't have survived those wounds to begin with. And it wasn't a big enough town to have a gifted healer.

"He woke up when I fed him milk yesterday," Goku said hopefully. Always so damn hopeful. As if that could change anything. "And today he tried to spread his wings, but I didn't let him. Well, I guess if he's not ready yet, we could get a ride from someone again. Or walk."

"_Ch'_. That idiot will be in no condition to walk." He would deserve it, though.

In any case, the bakazaru was right. They couldn't waste time here forever. Eventually someone would start to object. Besides, Gojyo had been marginally less obnoxious on the journey here. When the youkai had ambushed them on the road outside, he had taken out a dozen of them in a minute. Sanzo hadn't gotten off a whole round before they were all down. The half-youkai rarely fought with such aggression; better for him to apply it to mad demons than semi-innocent townsfolk.

Goku had spread the pallet on the floor between the two beds, flopped down upon it without complaint, as he had the past three nights. Even if Sanzo had never actually laid down on the bed he had claimed, and Gojyo was too dead drunk to tell the difference between floor and mattress anyway. Sanzo wasn't sure if Goku were sleeping as it was. He hadn't heard the monkey's snores any night.

The first night in town, he had tried to talk to Sanzo, asked him to come down to dinner, told him when he was leaving to find Gojyo and said good night before going to sleep. The second night he had wondered, hesitantly, if Sanzo shouldn't stop smoking, or at least take a break between cigarettes. Last night, like tonight, he had said practically nothing, and retired in silence.

The last golden window across the street was extinguished, and then it was completely dark outside, save for the scattering of stars above the rooftops. Sanzo put the current cigarette to his lips, tried to inhale and realized it wasn't yet lit. It took him three tries to work the lighter, with his hands trembling as they were.

He supposed he needed sleep. But he wouldn't surrender that easily. There were more demons in the world than the youkai under the influence of the Minus Wave, and quite a few had permanent residence in his subconscious. He wasn't about to just hand himself over to them. Awake, he had a chance. Watch the stars. Meditation isn't about thinking, but removing oneself from thought. Concentrate on the mind itself, and it need not work at all.

Gojyo had the wrong idea. Alcohol plays tricks, erases some things, emphasizes others. No control.

But sometimes one's own body can betray. Only human, after all. The lighter slipped from his fingers, the unlit cigarette still in his mouth. Eyes closed, he didn't hear the metal clink on the wooden window sill.

For how long he wandered in Morpheus's kingdom, he didn't know. But finally he found himself kneeling, the polished floorboards hard under his bare knees. Skinny, nobbly knees of a thirteen year old, and his master was speaking, low and certain and faintly amused, as he always spoke.

"I'm not worthy," Kouryuu said, but that only amused Sanzo more.

"Neither was I," he said. "No human being could be. So you just do the best you can. Be strong, Genjo Sanzo..."

And that was when the demons attacked, and he was screaming, "_Oshou-sama!_"

And Hakkai was screaming, "Sanzo!" but it wasn't Koumyou Sanzo but Genjo Sanzo that he cried warning to. And Sanzo--how could he have ever accepted that name?--spun around...

There were three, where he had thought there were only two. Youkai, so crazed with bloodlust or loyalty to Kougaiji that they climbed the rafters and smashed through the window of their room at the inn. Maybe hoping to catch them off-guard, maybe not thinking at all. He shot one between the eyes, and the second through the heart, but he didn't see the third, hunched in the corner.

"Sanzo!" Hakkai cried, "look out--"

The demon sprang, this night and that night ten years past the same, its hideous talons raised to strike, and there was a split second that fear, pathetic terror for his own life, rooted him to the spot.

And then his master was there--

And then Hakkai was there--

_I..._

The claw slashed down, and it could have taken a decade, or the blink of an eye.

_I couldn't..._

He wasn't strong, he wasn't even strong enough to look away, not then not now, and the claw ripped through his chest, so deep that the blood which poured out was the red, red blood pumped from the heart itself.

_I couldn't protect..._

And Koumyou Sanzo fell, hazel eyes open in an expression of vague surprise, as if death were almost but not quite what he had expected...

And Cho Hakkai fell, green eyes open in an expression of vague expectation, as if death were almost but not quite surprising...

He dropped to the floor on his back, with his arms spread and his chest gory, and there was far too much blood for him to ever rise again, or smile, or even close his eyes.

_I couldn't protect him._

Sanzo came awake with a gasp, stiff from the nightmare, and his awkward position leaning against the windowsill. As he struggled to catch his breath he heard something across the room.

Gojyo was crying. Not a drunk's bawling, but an animal's short whining sobs, a wounded beast that knows it will die and yet still tries to hide.

"Gojyo," and Goku was awake as well. Sanzo didn't turn his head to look. He didn't care, but at least it was a distraction from his own self. Else the ape might have noticed his panting. His heart was pounding in his ears loud enough he half thought it should be shaking the room.

But Goku wasn't listening for that. "Gojyo," he said, "it's okay, it's okay," which was worthless, but what else was the _bakazaru _supposed to say? Like a mother with a baby, it doesn't mean anything, just the sound of the words. As if Goku's mewling could comfort anything. But he was good with animals...probably came from being one...

Sanzo's hands found the cigarette, fallen to his lap, and returned it to his mouth, but he didn't yet reach for the lighter glinting in the moonlight on the sill. Bedsprings creaked, and blankets rustled, and Gojyo's sobs became soft hiccups that finally subsided into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Sanzo picked up the lighter, risked a look across the room. Gojyo's long limbs were curled into a knot on the bed, and wrapped around that ball, clinging like a limpet, Goku slept, too, his face buried in waves of crimson hair, looking as if he might never let go.

Strange, in the silence of the latest night, how different two pairs of lungs could sound, when you were used to hearing three.

The sky was a little lighter than it had been. Sanzo lit his cigarette and reached for the next pack. It should last him until dawn, and he would have one left.

Tomorrow was almost here, and then their journey would start again. But now was still night, and Sanzo smoked, one cigarette at a time, listening to the quiet breathing behind him, choosing neither to think nor dream.


	3. Mourning: Gold

Goku didn't know why he was bothering to eat at all. He wasn't hungry, and what was the point of eating if you weren't enjoying the food? The innkeeper's wife barely knew how to boil rice, but he hadn't found anyone any better in the town, though he had sought out every restaurant and street stand.

There was one man who fried fish in a sweet black bean sauce that wasn't too bad, but Sanzo didn't like fish overly much, and he needed to find something Sanzo would want to eat. So far he had had little luck. Sanzo didn't even push the bowls and plates and wrappers away; he just left them, sitting untouched on the nightstand, until Goku took them away again.

It hadn't even rained once since they had arrived in the town.

He finished stuffing the third bowl of overcooked rice in his mouth, brought it over to the counter. The innkeeper's wife smiled at him. She was a friendly enough lady, even if she couldn't cook. "More?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No thanks. Here," and he returned the empty bowl.

"Do you want to take some breakfast up to your friends?"

"No...could I have some milk, though? And a little meat? Raw's okay." Hakuryuu might be up for real food by now.

She warmed the milk over a saucepan and gave it to him in a shallow bowl, as well as a little pile of chopped beef, still bloody. She also put two cups of coffee and a couple glasses of sweet cider on the tray, smiling, "Just in case they're thirsty." Goku didn't bother to tell her that Gojyo would prefer something stronger, and Sanzo wouldn't care since he couldn't smoke apple juice. Though the coffee would be appreciated.

He climbed the rickety stairs, balanced the tray on one hand to turn the door knob and entered their room. As he crossed the threshhold he was greeted by a soft, "Kyuuu." The white dragon was watching him, wedge-shaped head lifted above the box of bedding and red eyes shining.

Goku grinned. "Hakuryuu! You're feeling better?" He hurried over to the table, put down the tray to pat the dragon's head. "Are you hungry? I have some meat for you this time." The dragon mewed at this, butted his muzzle against his fingers until Goku carefully lifted him from the box and set him before the meat. There was no new blood spotting the bandages, and Hakuryuu sank his tiny fangs into it with as much enthusiasm as Goku had ever attacked a meal. He smiled at the dragon's appetite. If he were this hungry he had to be recovered.

They hadn't even seen him at first, trapped under the broken chair. They hadn't seen anything, hadn't even heard the sound of a struggle, but when they realized it all three of them had dashed up the stairs together. Though even before they opened the door Goku had smelled the blood, and known it was too late.

How long had they stood there, crowded on that threshold, just staring at the wreckage of the room? At the crimson painting the walls, the floor, and in the ruins, open green eyes empty... When Goku had finally heard the faint cry, he had dashed the splinters of the chair aside and found Hakuryuu. The jagged wood had torn the tender membranes of the dragon's wings, but that had been incidental to the rest of the damage, the purpling bruises of the crushed chest. He had fought, hopelessly and desperately, for his master's sake, though that hadn't been enough.

Goku had lifted the dragon so carefully, and he felt like a broken thing, draped over his hands, just a pile of fragile sticks wrapped in cool, thin leather. Sanzo hadn't known where to begin, finally just wrapped Hakuryuu so securely in bandages that he couldn't move and wreak further damage to himself, and entrusted the dragon to Goku's care. "It will survive, or it won't," was all he said, and Goku knew that he was expecting the latter.

For all the walk to the closest town, he hadn't been able to take a step without feeling Hakuryuu bumping against his stomach, in the rough sling he had tied to support the dragon. When the farmer had picked them up in his cart, he had cradled him in his hands, so the potholes of the road wouldn't jar the fractured bones. The youkai which attacked them were not nearly enough of a distraction, and besides, Gojyo took out most of them before Goku could even summon Nyoibou. And finally they had reached the town, and the animal doctor had seen to the dragon, and said he had done well caring for him.

And Goku was glad, because he couldn't imagine traveling without Hakuryuu, but he didn't know if their journey would continue even with the jeep back. He felt guilty, too, because there was a little of him that wished Hakuryuu were still injured, that they wouldn't yet have to decide their next move. And because Hakuryuu was something he could care for. He knew how to change bandages, how to feed a sick animal. He could help Hakuryuu, as he couldn't the others.

"Can you transform?"

Goku jumped. He hadn't even heard Sanzo get up, but now the monk leaned over him, studying the dragon. Hakuryuu looped his head around, muzzle bloody from the meat, and nodded decisively before returning to his meal.

"We leave this afternoon, then," Sanzo said, picking up one of the steaming cups of coffee and swallowing without testing its temperature.

"There's juice, too," Goku said, indicating the glass.

Sanzo said nothing. His violet eyes were on the dragon but his face was utterly impassive, pale in the morning sunlight streaming through the window. The spots of color in his cheeks looked out-of-place, feverish, and his delicate, nearly too feminine features were sharply defined. Goku knew that look well; he was always that way when recovering from yet another near-fatal injury, exhausted and drawn and so irritated by his own weakness that any little thing could set off his temper.

But Goku had not even seen a glimpse of the harisen since they had entered that trashed room, with the blood...

Sanzo needed to eat, needed to get back the strength he had spent the last four nights burning away. Goku knew monks did things like this sometimes, meditated and fasted and stayed awake so they could find something they weren't even sure they had lost. But Sanzo wasn't dumb like most monks were; he didn't do things just because you were supposed to do them.

He wasn't eating now because he wasn't hungry, and because Goku hadn't been able to find anything sufficiently delicious to tempt him. There were foods that Sanzo liked. Sukiyaki, the best-made, with everything chopped just right, and the egg added at the precisely correct moment. "There's a beef pot place across the street," Goku said. "We could go there now..."

"Didn't you have your breakfast already?"

"I'm ready for lunch."

Sanzo finished the coffee, set the cup back down on the tray and took out a cigarette. The lighter's flame wavered as his hands trembled slightly. "Go yourself, then. The card's by the window."

"Do you want me to get you anything? I could just buy some bread, the bakery is only a couple blocks away--"

"I'm not hungry."

"Fish? I know you don't like fish that much, but this guy does it good. Or duck, there's a restaurant, they could make us duck, with greens and lemon grass, like they made it at that place by the temple--you remember that place, Sanzo? We used to eat there all the time, before we left. You used to order five ducks, so you could have one for yourself. We could get as many as we want here, with the card--" He had let his voice rise into a whine, could feel Sanzo tense, and ignored it, as he always did, pushing toward the inevitable explosion--

"I said, I'm not hungry, saru," Sanzo said, and turned away.

And Goku, looking at the cigarette dangling loosely in his long fingers, realized that he knew what Sanzo would eat. There were those particular dumplings, filled with spiced pork and beef and boiled tender. Goku and Gojyo would shove and tussle over each and every one, but Sanzo wouldn't fight for food, of course. Except somehow as soon as the lid was taken off the pot, five or six would be gone, just like that, and Sanzo would be sitting back with a full plate, chopsticks in hand and the vaguest hint of a satisfied smirk on his lips. And Hakkai would be smiling as he ate his, not fearing theft, because of course one gives the cook his share, and only Hakkai knew the exact secrets of their perfect preparation.

"Goku."

He started, looked up, and Sanzo was staring down at him. "What's this?" the monk said.

"What?"

Sanzo's hand came up, as sudden as a slap, but only the lightest touch to Goku's cheek, and his fingers came away wet.

"Ah..." Goku pulled back, rubbed his stinging eyes. "I...I'm hungry."

"Then eat something," Sanzo said, not quite an order, still looking at him. He picked up the glass of cider, drained it and returned it to the tray. "I've had worse. Is there any rice left in their kitchen, or have you finished it all?"

"There's lots left! I'll go get a pot--"

"Get enough for the other idiot as well." Sanzo took the other coffee cup, crossed the room and smacked the bundle of blankets concealing Gojyo from the world. "Get up, drunkard. Your snoring is giving me a headache."

"Noo..." Gojyo groaned from the depths of the bed, muffled like he was speaking into his pillow. "...s'not noon yet..."

Sanzo studied the pile for a moment, then took a firm grip on one of the quilts and yanked, whipping off the covers and unceremoniously dumping Gojyo to the floor. "Ow!" he squawked, flailing blindly, "what'd you do that for, Hakkai--"

And froze, eyes snapping open. His bloodshot whites were almost as red as his irises, but there was no sleepiness in them, just painful sobriety. Sitting up, he rubbed his head, began to say, "I thought--" and then cut himself off. "Head's killing me," he muttered, not looking at either of them.

"Which isn't our fault or concern." Sanzo handed him the cup. "Get yourself together. We're leaving today. Hakuryuu's recovered."

"Really?" Gojyo glanced over at the dragon, now finished with both meat and milk and resting contentedly on the table. "Good." He sipped the coffee, climbed off the floor to sit on the bed, hunching over the cup. Staring down into the dark liquid, he said quietly, "Last night...I don't remember..."

"Goku brought you back here," Sanzo said. "Dragged you, I should say."

With his head down and his red hair over his eyes, Goku couldn't tell if Gojyo responded to that. His tone wasn't insulted, just tired. "I didn't...do anything..."

"I couldn't be bothered to pay attention," Sanzo told him. "As for the ape--"

Goku shook his head definitely. "I just brought you back here, after the fight," and Gojyo nodded confirmation, "and you passed out. That's it."

"Eh. Damn cheap vodka." Gojyo grimaced, knuckled his temple as if trying to shove his brains back into order. "So we're leaving this shithole town? About time."

"Sanzo," Goku said.

Sanzo looked over to him. "Aren't you supposed to be getting our food, saru?"

"I am, I mean I will, but..." Goku took a breath, forced out the question. "Where are we going to go, Sanzo?"

Gojyo's head came up, looked to Goku, then Sanzo. Sanzo only gazed out the window, his cigarette weaving a veil of thin white smoke in the sunbeams.

Finally he stubbed out the butt in the empty coffee cup. "To the West, of course. Where else would we be going?"


	4. Disoriented: Red

The passenger seat wasn't nearly as comfortable as it had been.

It probably was because Hakuryuu was still injured. The Jeep didn't look damaged, but the shocks were rough, and the gears growled complaints when Sanzo shifted. And the seats were lumpy. Or scratchy. Or something.

Gojyo didn't know how he had gotten the front seat. Not like he had called shotgun or anything. Sanzo would drive, that was agreed without a word. But when they had actually gotten in...for a moment he didn't know what he was doing. Stood there like a statue, just staring at the Jeep. Then Goku had brushed past him with a little shove and hopped into the back, stretched out across the bench seat and made himself comfortable. And Gojyo had climbed in beside Sanzo, who started the ignition, and they were off.

They stalled only half a mile outside the town; the engine wouldn't turn over, and Hakuryuu whimpered. "Can you make it, or should we wait?" Sanzo asked their transportation, more patiently than he ever addressed his other comrades, but the dragon's response sounded more angry than apologetic.

They got out again, and Hakuryuu shifted back to dragon form to fly tight, frustrated circles around them before finally coming to rest on Gojyo's extended arm. "Let me try," he told the other two, and went a little ways into the forest, so the trees would give the illusion of privacy. He stroked the dragon, examined the healing wings and the bruising on the narrow torso. Hakuryuu butted his hand, impatiently, a hum like a growl vibrating the long throat.

Gojyo had never understood the dragon's noises, but this he got. "You're well enough, aren't you. It's not because you're injured." The ruby eyes flashed, and Gojyo nodded. "It's because he isn't here. That's what's wrong, isn't it? You don't want to go on without him."

The dragon's soft cry was plaintive. "I know how you feel," Gojyo told him. "I know how I feel. But there isn't anything we can do. He's gone."

Hakuryuu reared back, wings opening, head turning back and forth on the long neck as if he were shaking it in a forceful negative. Gojyo caught the small jaws between his fingers, carefully, holding the narrow head still to look the dragon in the eyes. "Yes," he said, like he was talking to a little kid, "I don't want it to be true, but I saw it--we all saw it. We saw him get killed. He was dead before we could do anything..." It didn't seem real, saying it aloud. That masked figure, all in black, couldn't even tell if it were youkai or human, and the knife dripping in his hands...It didn't seem like something which could have happened, for all that he could practically smell the blood, could almost see those green eyes going dim.

He needed a drink. He needed to blur the unreal clarity of that memory, soften the edges before they cut any deeper into his soul. And Hakuryuu was fighting him still, keening like a frightened bird.

"Look," he said over the dragon's calls, "if you just want to leave, if you just want to fly away, then go. We can't stop you. But we're going to keep on this thing. Sanzo says we're going West, so we are. I don't think we have a choice about it, and besides...we've gotten this far. We can't stop now. It's not--not what he would have wanted, anyway."

He released Hakuryuu. The dragon shot up, wings pumping, soared into the sky, and then swooped around in a broad curve to land on Gojyo's shoulder. The white head pressed to his for a moment, the feathery whiskers tickling his cheek, and then Hakuryuu took flight again, gliding back to where Sanzo and Goku waited. Gojyo followed, and by the time he reached the road, his comrades were climbing into the jeep again. He got in as well, grateful when neither of them said a word to him, and they began to drive once more.

He tried to sleep, but the sun beat down hot on his head, and his temples were still throbbing dully. Gojyo wasn't used to hangovers; his rarely outlasted a cup of coffee. If he were sitting next to Goku he might have picked a fight just to get his mind off it, but Goku was behind him, and silent to the point of being creepy. He kept glancing back to make sure the kid was still there, kept mentally slapping himself for being so dumb. But in a few minutes he would do it again.

And maybe Sanzo was looking in the rearview mirror more than was required on a completely empty road, but Sanzo hadn't driven all that much. He might just be overcompensating.

And the seat was damn uncomfortable. He had to shift constantly to keep his butt from going numb.

It hadn't been this bad before, of that he was sure. Since his almighty holiness Genjo Sanzo had claimed the front seat as his own, Gojyo had rarely gotten the chance at it, but before they had ever started on this ill-fated journey he had taken shorter trips in the jeep. Once to the sea, a two days' trip to open water, and they had driven down the rocky beach, with salt-scented wind blowing through their hair and the gulls shrieking overhead. "I'm not sure I've ever seen it before," Hakkai had said, staring out at the endless gray-blue, and Gojyo had leaned back in the seat, listening to the waves crashing and watching Hakkai's profile as he watched the water, and hadn't wanted to move ever again, with everything so perfect just as it was.

He wasn't sure how long they drove, forests and hilly plains passing by with monotonous regularity, untouched by signs of youkai or human habitation. But when Goku's stomach growled louder than the engine, long shadows were already stretching away from the falling sun.

Sanzo slowed the jeep, glanced to the back seat. "You can say something if you're hungry, saru."

"I'm hungry."

They stopped in a clearing in the woods, on the bank of a river a few hundred feet from an old stone bridge. Other travelers had camped there before, to judge by the remains of fires and the trampled undergrowth. The sky was clear, so they didn't bother with a tent, but Sanzo started a fire to roast the meat bought in town.

Evening fell as they ate, bringing with it a mist thick enough to obscure the trees around them. Goku finished his share first, as usual, and made a grab for Gojyo's drumstick; Gojyo automatically yanked it out of his way, then realized he wasn't hungry for it anyway. He tossed the leg to Goku, who caught it surely enough, but gaped at him rather than immediately devouring his prize.

Irritated, Gojyo stalked back to the jeep, opened the cooler and rummaged through it. Frowned when he came up empty. "Oi, monk. Where's the beer?"

Sanzo didn't look up from his plate. "I didn't think to get any."

"You _forgot_? The _beer_?"

"If you wanted it, you could have bought it yourself," Sanzo said coolly. "With whatever cash you have left."

"Which is none, and you know it. And there isn't a store for a hundred damn miles." Angrily he took out a cigarette--at least he had a fair supply stocked away, though he doubted Sanzo would forget those--and dug his flat hipflask out of his pocket. Put it to his lips and swallowed enough to burn a trail down his throat.

"You can share that," Sanzo said, aloof but sharp, and held out his hand like a teacher calling for a troublemaker's slingshot.

Gojyo lowered the flask, met those violet eyes and saw something unexpected in them, a concern so quickly masked he probably imagined it. "Screw you," he said, precisely. "You could have bought some yourself." And turning on his heel he walked into the fog.

A crashing in the underbrush told him he was followed, and equally that Goku wanted him to know it. He could have run, but it was easier to crouch at the roots of a giant oak and wait. After taking another swig, he regretfully capped the flask. It would have to last him however many days, and besides, he could down all of it without causing so much as a falter in his steps.

Goku almost ran past him, glimpsed him out of the corner of his eye and stopped. "Where are you going, ero-gappa?" he demanded. "There's no women around here."

"No restaurants, either. Only a jeep, a damn monk, and a bakazaru."

"At least I'm not dumb enough to get myself lost in a forest."

"You'd have to be stupid, to get lost among a couple trees like this. And shouldn't a monkey know its way around woods?"

"Not as well as a cockroach knows its way around cheap bars!"

And it was too much, or not enough. "_No_." Gojyo shook his head, twisted away. "I can't."

"Can't?" Goku's golden eyes were puzzled. "You can't--"

"This. I can't do this. Go along on this damn mission, and you're here and Sanzo and the jeep and it's just like it was. It's..." He looked at the bottle in his hands. Uncapped it, and then he saw Sanzo's eyes, purple with the blue shadows beneath them, and green eyes, lifeless...

He threw the flask away instead, heard it thunk against a tree, and then all the liquor was soaking into the forest floor, wasted. Covered his head with his arms and listened to himself breathe. "I can't do it."

"You don't have to." Goku's voice was barely a whisper. "You don't have to do anything or say anything, I won't make you and Sanzo won't make you, just come back to the jeep, Gojyo. Please?"

He raised his head, but the kid wasn't looking at him but the ground, as if reading his fortune in the fallen leaves. Closing his eyes, he ran his fingers through his hair, blood-red vibrant in his mind, no need to see it. Maybe he should cut it again. It was always in his eyes. Slowly he stood, opened his mouth to get Goku's attention.

The gunshot did that trick a hell of a lot more significantly. Goku's head snapped up as he stared back through the trees, recognizing the spirit gun's distinctive retort. "Sanzo!" Then he took off, Gojyo pounding at his heels. Another shot echoed, setting the leaves around them shaking, and for a moment nothing mattered except the urgency of their race through the dark woods.

He was panting when they reached the clearing. The mist was a little thinner here, and the flickering flames cast golden shadows on the still tableau. Sanzo, erect, had his revolver aimed at a shape in black, crouched on the opposite side of the fire. A tall, slender figure, whose face was masked in black silk, and a short, wicked blade glittered in his hand.

Gojyo knew that mask, knew that knife, though the last time it had been soaked in blood, red to its hilt from a slash so deep it had almost cleaved its victim in two...

He didn't even realize the scream was his, but Sanzo jerked around, taking his eyes off his target for a split second, which was all the figure needed. In one smooth motion it leapt back and vanished into the darkness of the forest. Gojyo plunged after it, only to have Sanzo grab him, swing him around into a tree hard enough to rattle his teeth.

"What are you doing?" he cried, shoving at the monk, who pressed an arm against his throat to hold him down.

"Are you drunk, or just mad?" Sanzo demanded. "That thing dodged two of my shots at point-blank range. We don't know how many of them there are out there."

"One," he snarled, "there was only one before--"

"Before?"

"Didn't you _see_ it?" Gojyo shouted. "That was him--that was the son of a bitch who killed Hakkai!"


	5. Disoriented: Violet

Sanzo knew Gojyo was close to the edge--he had been there himself, too long not to be able to recognize it in someone else. But he had honestly thought the man was stronger than that, if barely. The violence with which he attacked had been unexpected, but the way Gojyo was fighting him now, thrashing around and striking him...

"That was the son of a bitch who killed Hakkai!"

Sanzo gaped at him, and Gojyo took advantage of his momentary shock to tear free, charging toward the dark woods where the figure in black had disappeared. Sanzo cursed the halfbreed and his own self in one breath, even as he lunged to grab him. And then Goku was there, Nyoibou extended to bar the redhead's path.

"What are you talking about, Gojyo?" he demanded.

"Didn't you see him?" Gojyo cried, rising hysteria tightening his voice. "Don't you remember?" His scarlet eyes were wild in the firelight, beyond reason, and Sanzo wasn't going to put up with this, not on top of everything else.

"Calm down!" He seized the halfbreed's collar in both hands and shook him, like a terrier shakes a rat, until he saw a different rage in Gojyo's face, the old, familiar dislike. Then he dropped him, shoving him back hard enough that the redhead staggered, and folded his arms in his long sleeves. "You're making no sense, idiot."

"Me? _I'm_ making no sense?" His laughter rattled in his throat, but at least it wasn't uncontrolled. "Maybe you wouldn't pray over his grave, but I thought you'd at least want to make the bastard pay for it...didn't he inconvenience you that much? Or is the great Sanzo-sama too holy for revenge?"

"Gojyo," Goku asked, "why do you think that was the guy who did it?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Gojyo waved wildly at the foggy night. "You were there! You saw him! It was the same mask, the same knife--"

"There was no mask," Sanzo said, slowly to make sure every word would register. "There was no knife, and they weren't alone. There were three youkai, and I shot all of them. One too late."

He wasn't surprised when Gojyo stared at him, because obviously he was drunk--not crazy--enough that things weren't straight in his maltreated head. But Goku was gawking at him too, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. "Sanzo," the ape said, nervously, "what do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean? You were there--I didn't see the third one immediately, and when it attacked me, he...got in the way, the stupid son of a bitch..."

"But I wasn't there," Goku whispered. "None of us were. We heard something, but by the time we made it up to the room, Hakkai was already..."

"We were there," Sanzo said, and heard Gojyo say it at the same time. "What the hell are you talking about, bakazaru--"

Goku flushed. "What are you talking about? I was with you! None of us saw anything, except Hakkai, dead!"

Gojyo stumbled back as if he had been physically hit, bumped into a tree trunk and drew on its solid support. "I saw that," he mumbled. "I remember seeing that..."

"But you remember that thing in black, too," Sanzo said.

The red eyes which met his were too lost to be angry. "I saw him...I didn't see him stab Hakkai, I just saw the knife after, and the blood, and then he ran, but, Hakkai...it was too late, I should have gone after the bastard then, but I thought...I..."

"And you, Goku," Sanzo pointed to him, "you say we didn't see anyone at all."

Goku shook his head. "They were gone by the time we got to the room. I swear, Sanzo."

"And I remember youkai. Three of them." He frowned. He knew there were three, could remember firing the gun, the revolver kicking back three time in his hands. He was down three bullets. But when he tried to picture the demons themselves...had they been tall, or scrawny? Silver-haired, or black, and what had they worn? He couldn't bring any details to mind. Just those long talons coming down, and the blood.

He looked back to Gojyo. "Why didn't you see him attack? Where were you looking?"

Gojyo's head was tipped down, apparently gazing at the forest floor, or more likely at the crimson hair falling before his eyes. "I wasn't--I didn't see it..."

"Why not?" Sanzo swung around to Goku again. "You, saru. Where were we, if not with Hakkai? What sound got our attention, so we went upstairs?"

"I--I don't remember, Sanzo, I can't--"

"How'd you know we went upstairs?" Gojyo asked suddenly. His head lifted, and Sanzo almost welcomed the challenge in his stare. "Maybe we were just in the other room?"

But they had gone up. They had been sitting around the fire in the inn's sorry excuse for a common room, playing cards there since the lighting was so poor in their rooms. He could see orange firelight flickering over the water-stained plaster walls, feel the smooth cards in his hands...threw them down, as Hakkai won yet another round. He had been about to suggest mahjong, in which they had at least a sporting chance, though Gojyo was likely to stubbornly insist on continuing until he made that elusive and impossible win...

"We were playing in the main room," Gojyo said, in a careful tone that Sanzo recognized as him piecing together his own memories. "All of us. Weren't we?"

"Poker," Goku agreed. "I remember. I was losing..."

"We all were. As usual." Gojyo's laugh was only a stutter away from a sob. "You remember, Sanzo?"

Sanzo nodded. "I saw you palm the ace of spades."

"Yeah. I was waiting for the right hand...so we all remember that."

Sanzo steeled himself. "And we all remember Hakkai's body."

Gojyo closed his eyes, snapped them open them again as if fearful of what he might find behind the lids. "The blood."

"All over his chest," Goku said. "I--it was worse than you've ever looked, Sanzo...I knew he couldn't...and his eyes..."

"They were open," Gojyo whispered. "But just...the light in them..."

That faded light haunted his face, as evident as the scars across his cheek. Sanzo could see it all too well in his own mind, the vibrant green going dim, and then all life was gone.

But if that were so achingly vivid, why the hell couldn't he recall a single detail of the youkai responsible?

"I didn't see the guy break in." Gojyo's voice was shaking. "How'd I miss it? I can't remember how he got into the room, I didn't even see him stab--" he swallowed. "But I know that knife, that mask..."

"I didn't see him at all," Goku said, as unsteadily.

"So which one of us is going crazy? Or have we all lost it? Gods," and he shoved his fingers through his long hair to clutch at his temples, "if I'm nuts couldn't I just...forget..."

"We've forgotten too much already," Sanzo said sharply. Trying to think. They had been together, but Hakkai had...fallen, in the room upstairs...

He forced himself through it step by step, recreating the inn in his mind. Crackling fire, the master bidding them good night before retiring. Playing cards, with a few bottles of beer and a couple packs of cigarettes, enough to last them most of the night. But Hakuryuu had been drooping, looking a little gray, and Hakkai had excused himself to take the dragon up to the room he was sharing with Goku... "Hakuryuu."

"Hakuryuu was sick. " So Gojyo shared that recollection as well. "We must've followed Hakkai up..." He interrupted himself. "Wait--where the hell is Hakuryuu now?"

The underbrush was flattened where they had parked, but the jeep was gone. Sanzo swore. "When did it--"

"Hakuryuu!" Goku rocked back his head to holler into the night.

"Idiot!" Sanzo began, but just then the white dragon came soaring out of the fog to settle on Gojyo's shoulder with a flip of its wings.

The half-youkai chucked it under the chin like a housecat. "What the hell were you up to? Don't scare us like that." He did, Sanzo had to admit, an impressive job of sounding normal, especially given how close he had been to falling completely apart moments before.

"Maybe he was chasing the guy?" Goku wondered aloud.

Gojyo stiffened, twisted his head toward the dragon. "No. That wasn't it, was it?"

Hakuryuu blinked at the redhead, then opened its wings and took to the air. Gojyo threw his arm in front of it to block its flight. "No," he said firmly. "That's too damn dangerous!"

"You have to stay with us," Goku told it earnestly, pleadingly.

Sanzo ignored them, watching the dragon hover in place, wings pumping. The long scars across the pinions would fade in time, but still looked raw now, and its chest was mottled with yellowing bruises. But no claw marks--or knife wounds, for that matter. Why would youkai attack the dragon? They never had bothered with that target before. He had no memory of Hakuryuu being in the room at all, much less how it had been so grievously injured. The momentary twinge of despair when Goku had tossed the chair aside to reveal that small, broken body...that he recalled. But not how it had happened.

Protecting its master, of course. But how could it have stopped Hakkai's sudden, impulsive sacrifice? And then he had shot the youkai, too late, much too late, but before it did any more harm. The gunshot echoed in his ears still. Three shots.

Who was going mad?

"Hakuryuu," Sanzo called for the dragon. "Transform. We're leaving."

"Now?"

Sanzo looked at them. "Will it do any good to lie awake here all night?"

"But finding the way in the dark--"

"We're not finding our way ahead. We're going back."

"Back? To that town?" Gojyo looked as if he would rather eat nails.

"No, idiot. To the inn where this happened. If we drive through the night we should be able to get there by tomorrow evening." His two supposedly sentient companions only stared, while Hakuryuu landed and shifted into the vehicle with unmistakable eagerness, facing back the way they had come. Obviously Hakuryuu realized the implications.

The others must have as well, but they drove for nearly an hour before Gojyo worked up the courage to ask it aloud. The tension radiated from him like an electric current as he cleared his throat. "Sanzo," and it sounded damned odd, how he pronounced that title without a hint of sarcasm, something Sanzo would have, before this, laid even bets that the obnoxious kappa never could manage. "Do you think...Hakkai might not have..."

The monk glanced in the rearview mirror, saw Goku's golden eyes staring back as he listened. So damn hopeful.

Sanzo shook his head. "How should I know?"

But the chance shone like wildfire in Goku and Gojyo's faces. Dangerous in its likely false promise, but Sanzo couldn't find the words to extinguish it. Not when it burned so hot in his own heart.


	6. Disoriented: Gold

Goku smelled the smoke even before they saw it, a scattered column of gray drifting up into the twilight sky.

The inn had stood on a bend in the road, a dilapidated structure, wood weathered and roof sagging, but appearances meant little. Miles from any real civilization, tired travelers would have little choice but pay for its refuge.

Not any more. The fire likely had been out for hours by the time they arrived, shortly after sunset, but the cinders were still smoking, the blackened timbers of the frame listing dangerously but not yet entirely collapsed, though the second floor had fallen in. The stone chimney jutted up from the charnel, scorched but still standing, and Goku could see the gaping mouth of the fireplace, which they had sat around just a week before, though the wooden floor and table were ashes.

"Over there," Gojyo said grimly, pointing through the smoke and grit to a dark shape under a fallen beam. Not even a body anymore, only a charred skeleton, in no need of a funeral pyre.

Goku turned away, and heard something as he did, a faint sound too soft to recognize. Following instinct more than certainty, he circled around the remains of the fire. "Where are you going, bakazaru?" Sanzo called after him.

Nightfall and smoke obscured his vision so much that he nearly tripped over the huddled form. Backing up, he stared down at the shivering figure, who moaned again, heaved up and sank back to the ground. There was a dark wetness in the dirt all around him.

"There's someone here!" Goku shouted, and Gojyo and Sanzo came running.

Rather than move the victim, they brought over Hakuryuu to shine his headlights on the wounded man. The stark white glare showed him to be a young man, no older than Goku, with a mop of black hair. "The innkeeper's son," Sanzo identified him.

His chest was a gory mess, a deep wound still gushing blood with every beat of his heart. He had tried to staunch it with his arms, but the cut was too long. When Sanzo peeled back his tunic he moaned, and the monk frowned, eyes narrowed at the damage. "Water," he ordered, "the cleanest blanket, and the first aid kit. Gojyo, start a fire," and his mouth twisted with irritable irony as Gojyo glanced automatically at the smoldering ruins behind them.

An hour later Sanzo stood, washed his bloody hands in the remaining water and accepted a bowl of the rice Goku had boiled over the fire. The son was resting quietly, his chest covered, though the bandages and scraps of blankets wrapped around him all were stained.

"Is he gonna..." Gojyo began to ask, and didn't finish.

Sanzo shrugged, hunched over his meal. "Likely he won't," he said quietly. "It's too severe. If Hakkai..." He shook his head, golden hair falling in his eyes. "There's not much that can be done."

"Will he wake up, you think?" Gojyo had a cigarette out, but wasn't lighting it in deference to the wounded man. His fingers twisted it until the paper split and the tobacco spilled. "I don't...I mean, it's terrible, but he might be able to answer some questions."

"Like what happened," Goku said, glancing back at the inn. The remains were still smoking from embers burning under the wreckage. A good rain would extinguish them, but the starry sky was clear. The ash and grit got in his throat and eyes, made him cough and tear up. "Was it an accident?"

"No accident," Sanzo said, not looking up. "He," and he aimed his thumb at the son, "was sliced open with a blade. A sword. Or a knife."

"Bandits?" Gojyo hazarded. "Highwaymen?"

"Maybe."

"N-no!" The gasp carried over the crackling campfire, and they all turned to where the wounded man had opened his eyes, was struggling to sit up.

Sanzo returned to his side, pushed him down with gentle force. "Don't move."

"Not--not bandits," the man panted. "One man. Demon. All in black...with a knife...my parents, my sister--!"

"You say it was a youkai?" Sanzo asked.

"D-don't know--he was masked..." He blinked hazily up at the priest, reached out a shaking hand and caught at his sleeve, tugged weakly. "You--I know you..."

"We stayed at this inn, six days ago."

"_You_," the man breathed, then coughed, blood speckling his lips. "It was you...the four of you."

"Three now," Gojyo said. The half-youkai's voice was angry, but he was studying the dying man with such intensity that it left no room for rage.

Sanzo looked similarly focused. "What did you do to us?" he asked, pressing the man's clutching hand between his own.

"Not--not me...my father..." The man shuddered, choked as he tried to speak. At last he coughed out, "My father...a deal...they didn't want...much for their money..."

"Who?" Sanzo demanded.

But the man was beyond hearing, too desperate to force out his final confession. "Just the keys to your rooms...and leave them alone... They gave him...a little powder...for the fire...put in...the drinks..."

"You drugged us?" Gojyo said.

"What was the powder?" Sanzo asked. "Who gave it to your father?" He took the man's face in his hands, stared into his eyes with all that terrible focus. "Was it a youkai? A woman with long purple hair?"

"No...a man. Human man...like him," and his eyes rolled toward Gojyo.

"Listen to me," Sanzo said, forcing out every word with frightening precision. "Our fourth comrade. How was he killed? Who killed him? Was it your father, or that man, or someone else?"

"No...he...my father didn't...blood. They wanted...blood...splattered...the floor, the bed. Mother was furious..." His eyes squinted shut, tears squeezing from their corners. "My mother--my father...he killed them...my sister...with the knife...and I ran...I was so scared, it hurt so much...I ran!"

"You couldn't have protected them," Sanzo told him. "You would have only died that much sooner."

"But I...my family...no!" His eyes were open again, and then he was surging up, struggling against Sanzo's restraining hand. "No! Please, no, no, I don't--I don't want to die--!"

Fresh stains spread through his bandages, and blood and bile leaked from the corners of his mouth, and his eyes were open so wide white could be seen all the way around the brown irises as he stared into the darkness beyond the fire. "No!" he gasped, and then he went limp, collapsing back to the ground. The heaving breaths stopped. Sanzo put a hand to his throat, felt for a pulse, then shook his head and closed the staring eyes. Reaching into his robes, he took out a cigarette.

Goku looked into the night which had transfixed the dead man. He could see nothing, could hear nothing. But the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end.

"Is something out there, Goku?" Sanzo asked. Bloodstains spotted his sleeves, but the cigarette's burning tip was steady in his hand. Just glancing at him made Goku feel a little better. Sanzo still looked exhausted, and the death of the innkeeper's son cast yet another shadow in those violet eyes, but there was life in them too, that impossibly strong will, which Goku had almost lost sight of before.

"Drugged," Gojyo muttered. He still sounded angry, but that was closer to his normal tone than anything he had said in days. "You think it could've been that Yaone chick? But she wouldn't...not Hakkai..."

"They are our enemies. But Kougaiji and his crew are usually more openly antagonistic."

"Why'd they do it, anyway? Whoever they are? Did they just want Hakkai?"

"The better question," Sanzo said, inhaling smoke and releasing it, "is _what_ did they do?"

"Do you think--" Gojyo stopped abruptly. "Oh, shit."

Goku hadn't had to say anything at all. By the time he was on his feet, crouched in a fighting stance, Gojyo's shakujou was out and Sanzo had pulled his gun.

And yet none of them were quite ready for the figure which dashed out of the darkness, swift and light-footed as a leopard. The same lithe form, sheathed in black from head to toe, and that same long knife gleaming in the gloved fist. No blood showed on that silvery blade or against that black, but Goku could smell it on him.

Their attacker didn't hesitate this night. He lunged straight for Sanzo, the knife glittering as it swept down, but no sooner had the monk dodged the blow was the man twisting out of the gun's line of fire, spinning in a low kick to knock Gojyo's feet out from under him. Gojyo leapt backwards, expertly whirling around the shakujou to slice the crescent blade through his enemy's chest, but the figure ducked that deadly arc and jumped the chain as easily as a child skipping rope.

He danced back, moving like a moth, almost floating on the balls of his feet, utterly silent in motion and in voice. Like a ghost, he seemed on the verge of melting back into the darkness, but just outside of the circle of firelight, Goku struck at him. Keeping low to avoid the knife, he slammed his fist into the man's stomach, and hit not a phantom but solid flesh. The figure blocked, but not entirely successfully, dropped to his knees, and Goku threw a second punch to pummel him down--

But he had misjudged his opponent; the man had been bluffing, and checked his blow easily, caught his wrist between his arms and twisted, so that Goku tripped. Then the knife was coming up, blade streaked gold by the dancing flames, and Goku realized with a fighter's split-second perception the impossibility of dodging that snake-fast stab. And for some reason the only thought louder than the blood pounding in his ears was that this must be what Hakkai had felt...


	7. Revelation: Red

"Goku!" Gojyo heard Sanzo shout. In the flickering firelight the knife was only a gleaming blur, a slash of light.

Then his ears were ringing in the wake of the bullet's thunder, and the blade was spinning into the darkness with a chime like a shattering bell. The figure in black twisted from the force of the knife being shot from his hand, wrenched around, but he regained his balance before he stumbled. For an instant he froze there, crouching low facing them, and the tilt of his masked head had a predatory aspect, so dangerous it paralyzed. Sanzo, stock-still with the gun aimed unwavering, Goku like a statue stooped before him, and Gojyo couldn't move, even his heart seemed to have stopped.

For an endless instant they stalled there, and then the man loped away into the night, abandoning the shards of the dagger to meld with the shadows.

Time caught for a moment, until the gun came down and broke the spell. "_Bakazaru_!" Sanzo looked furious, mouth set in a hard line and sparking violet eyes narrowed in that unique Sanzo version of being terrified. Gojyo didn't blame him for that; his stomach had jumped halfway up his throat when he saw that blade plunging toward Goku's chest.

Besides, he had other things to call the monk on. "What the hell was that! You could've shot him--why'd you just stop him? You had a clear angle to put a bullet through his god-damned skull!"

"You didn't..." Gojyo wasn't sure if Sanzo was speaking at all; his mouth moved but the voice was too uncertain to be his. Then the monk had returned the gun to his sleeve and stalked to Goku, cuffed him hard. "What the hell kind of way was that to fight? You almost let him--"

"I didn't think he could be that fast! Or that strong!" Goku protested, rubbing his abused skull. "He didn't look it...you think he'll be back tonight?"

"If you'd shot him when Goku had him distracted," Gojyo snapped, "this'd be over with." He knew he was drawing Sanzo's wrath, but didn't care, welcoming the chance for a fight. Their antagonist had fled too soon, and the anger was like a living thing inside him, tearing through his veins. He embraced it, could accept it as he had not been able to recognize anything else he had felt in the last week.

The night breeze was cool on one side and the fire was hot on his other and the body of the innkeeper's son was stiffening on their blankets behind him, and he could still feel how his muscles had locked up when that figure had stared at him. "You'll gun down a hundred youkai without batting an eye, but that thing killed Hakkai, killed these people, tried to kill Goku, and you show him mercy--_mercy_, I thought mercy was for people who believed in salvation, Sanzo-sama, I thought you were too enlightened for that."

"Gojyo," Goku began, hesitantly, but at least he was still alive to open those golden eyes so wide.

"He could've had another knife, he could've used his bare hands--shit, he seemed strong enough--and then the saru here would be dead with the rest. And maybe you wouldn't care, but you're gonna run out of servants eventually and then you'll have to buy your own cigarettes. What's the matter, why'd the great Sanzo-hoshi-sama choke? Don't tell me you were actually worried, your blood's ice already, so how can you freeze up? Why the hell didn't you take him down?" He grabbed Sanzo's shoulder, whipcord thin under the robes, yanked him around to glare down at him, confront the counterattack head-on.

But Sanzo said nothing, and the violet eyes which met his were calm as the sky after a storm. Typical, so classically Sanzo, he who lost his temper at the slightest bickering holding it with iron reins here, when all Gojyo wanted was further fuel. He couldn't pick a fight with Goku, not now, not when the kid had been so close to... Sanzo, though, he didn't care about hurting Sanzo, he wanted to see a little pain in that too pretty, too cold face. But of course Sanzo would never give him that or any other satisfaction. He should have expected it; of all emotions, Sanzo was most familiar with anger, probably knew exactly why Gojyo was so furious, and that it had little enough to do with him, even if his mistake was real.

And that should have made him angrier, but it was too hard to hold onto the rage, not when its target absorbed it all so placidly. Like shouting off a cliff and getting no echo back.

"We'll have to keep up a watch tonight," Sanzo said, decisively, as if Gojyo wasn't still gripping his shoulder, and he knew it was tightly enough to bruise. "He might return, but we should sleep."

"I'll take first watch," Gojyo said, dully, and let go. He wouldn't be getting to sleep anytime soon as it were.

Damn, but he needed a drink.

He sat on the jeep's hood, planted his boots on the fender and smoked as he watched the darkness. Goku curled up in the back and was snoring as quickly as ever, but whenever Gojyo glanced back, Sanzo was sitting in the driver's seat, cigarette burning in his hand.

The night was quiet, a few peeping tree frogs providing counterpoint to the rising and falling buzz of cicadas. Gojyo gazed up at the sky, picking out the constellations he had heard of and inventing new ones. No shooting stars cut across his vision, which was well enough; he didn't believe in wishes.

He wondered if anyone else had ever seen a horse in the seven stars right overhead, but there was no one to ask, and that hurt like a physical ache in his chest.

He hadn't realized his eyes had closed, when the hood under him creaked and bent and he snapped awake instantly. "I'll take over," Sanzo said, sitting beside him.

"Wouldn't he be back by now, if he were coming?" Gojyo remarked.

"No way to know."

And wasn't the point that they should all get some rest? But he didn't bother saying so, just crawled into the passenger seat and leaned it all the way back. Hakuryuu must be feeling better; it was comfortable enough that he dropped off before he heard Sanzo light another cigarette.

In the end he didn't know if the monk slept or not. He and Goku were both awake before Gojyo, who was roused by the rising sun against his face. When he peered over the windshield he saw them, poking around the burned ruins. Out to get themselves killed, if the crumbling timbers collapsed or the still-glowing embers should flare up. Climbing out of the jeep, he went to the fire, poured the last coffee from the pot and waited. They made their way back within a few minutes and he grunted a greeting to Goku's, "Thought you'd never get up," and Sanzo's brooding silence.

"Dug graves yet?" he asked, because they should. No way to know when the next travelers would be along, and even if the innkeeper had played them wrong...they were people, and letting the crows at the body of the black-haired boy and his family turned his stomach.

"Gonna do that now," Goku said. "We found them all...no guests, just the innkeeper and his wife and daughter."

Cute girl, as he recalled. Nothing special, but pouting lips and good legs. Only blackened bones, now.

"We also found..." Goku glanced at Sanzo, who lifted his fist, opened his fingers to reveal three scraps of metal, seared and pocked.

Gojyo picked up one, studied it. "Bullets?"

"From my gun. Three shots. They were by the innkeeper's body. He probably dug them out of the wall." Sanzo threw the spent shells to the ground. "If they'd hit their target they should have disintegrated. I didn't shoot any youkai."

"We know I must have seen something real," Gojyo said.

"We don't _know_ a damned thing."

"Well, at least I saw the guy who killed Hakkai trying to kill us--or do you forget that, now, too? It happened just last night!"

"You said yourself you didn't _see_ him kill anyone," Sanzo said evenly, "and even if you're changing that now, I'm not stupid enough to put any faith in a drunk moron of a kappa's eyewitness account."

Gojyo saw red that wasn't his hair, and then Goku had stepped in front of the monk. "Gojyo," he said hurriedly, "will you help me dig?"

Didn't have much choice about that; it wasn't like Sanzo would so dirty his hands. He glared at the monk over the top of Goku's head, but Sanzo didn't even deign to look at him, simply picked up his newspaper. After two days he had to have read every article by now, but Gojyo conquered his urge to grab it and throw it in the fire, instead only turned on his heel and walked away, Goku beside him.

He jammed the shovel into the earth imagining it was Sanzo's smug golden head, threw aside clumps of dirt with vicious enthusiasm. Treating him like a fucking kid, like he was so much older and wiser because of a couple years and a dot on his forehead, Gojyo was used to that superiority. But getting dismissed, just like that, when it was this important, just because the monk couldn't handle his own confusion....and Gojyo didn't have a clue how to get through his thick hide and thicker skull. "Damn it, he's easier to deal with when he's whaling on us with the fucking fan!"

"Yeah..."

Gojyo glanced over. Goku was digging with the help of a flat, half-charred board he had retrieved from the wreckage. "I wish he would," the kid said, wiping his brow and getting mud all over his face. "I want..."

He didn't need to say it. "Yeah, me, too." Too damn difficult this way. It hadn't been a picnic before, but somehow everything had worked, better than it ever should have. Somehow they had worked, even if they never said it, even if they never admitted it. Though they wouldn't say it even now. Didn't make it any less true.

He did want it back like it had been. More than anything. "Look, saru, you've got him eating again. Sleeping a little, even. He's all cool, reading the paper now. Throw a fit in front of him and he'll probably whip out that fan and smack you before he knows what his hand is doing."

"You think so?" It really was wrong the way that thought brightened Goku's face.

Hell, it was wrong how it made him want to smile. But Goku probably could do it. A lot of how Sanzo treated his ape seemed more instinct than reasoned response, like Sanzo came preprogrammed with a Goku-management protocol. And Sanzo probably needed it as much as any of them, some slight return to normalcy. Or at least to the way things were supposed to be.

For them, at least. Sanzo and Goku had been together before they had ever met Hakkai, had each other now and probably always would, pity them both for it. Hard to imagine the monk without his monkey, the kid without his sun. But he wouldn't know them at all without Hakkai. He didn't know if he did know them, without Hakkai there as balance, tempering Sanzo, fortifying Goku. Gojyo had watched him do it a dozen dozen times, a few pointed words to thaw Sanzo, a quiet intercession to cool Goku...he had seen it, but never understood how Hakkai did it, couldn't manage it himself.

More than anything. For all that he didn't believe in wishes.

By the time the hole was big enough, the sun was sinking, and his arms were trembling with the exertion of heaving shovelfuls of earth overhead. They had stopped for lunch at Goku's insistence--Gojyo wasn't sure if the kid had been more motivated by his empty stomach or his concern for the monk, but at any rate, they all had eaten, and Goku had made such a fuss about the consistency of the rice that Sanzo had whacked him smartly with his harisen. And then looked vaguely astonished, frowning at the paper fan as if it had jumped into his hand of its own accord.

He had walked off after that, and Gojyo had stopped Goku from running after him. Better to let the monk wander around by himself for a while, come to terms with whatever was going on in that blond head without a monkey pestering him, and Sanzo was smart enough to stay in the local area. But Goku was distracted after that, popping up out of the hole to check if Sanzo was in sight every few minutes, and Gojyo could have kicked himself for ever giving him that idea. Especially since the kid's eyes were so disturbed again.

Sanzo returned to help them move the bodies into the rough grave--they wrapped the bones in blankets to keep them together, and the bile rose in Gojyo's throat at the stench, but he swallowed it down. Afterwards, while the half-youkai covered them with earth, Sanzo selected the appropriate stone markers for Goku to move. Which was as much as they could expect from him, Gojyo knew, because the damn monk thought it useless pray over the dead. Not that he gave much more thought to the living. Though there were some dark nights that he could still hear the chant at Hyakugan-mao's castle, that voice of light which burned too bright to allow for pity or despair. But Sanzo hadn't even spoken over Hakkai--

He was sick then, staggered away from the grave to heave up his guts on less sacrosanct ground. His head was spinning as if he were drunk again, without alcohol this time, just crazy realization, so dizzy that he didn't notice Sanzo's approach until the monk had taken his arm and hauled him to his feet. "Gojyo?"

"You didn't pray for him," Gojyo said. "I said it before, you didn't pray over his grave."

"The hell is wrong with you now, kappa?" And Sanzo wasn't doing so well after all, because Gojyo could clearly see the worry drawn around those violet eyes, even if he had managed to sound only annoyed.

He was laughing again, since it was vastly easier than crying. "His grave, do you see his grave anywhere? Did you trip over his headstone when you were walking around? We didn't bury him, Sanzo--I'm not forgetting that, am I? We didn't...what the hell is going on?"

"Hakuryuu was injured," Goku reminded him, coming up behind Sanzo. "We had to get him to help..."

"But we wouldn't have just left him--I wouldn't have...what'd we do with Hakkai's body? After we saw him dead--I can't remember anything!"

"We were drugged--"

"With what? Why?" Gojyo made a fist, studied it and then drove it into the tree trunk beside him, smearing blood on the rough bark. "I didn't even think of it--didn't realize it until just this minute. Half of it's so clear in my head that it's driving me out of my fucking mind, and the rest isn't there at all, and I didn't even notice--"

"Shut up." Sanzo had him by the collar again, gave him a shake hard enough his teeth clattered. "You aren't going insane." He bit out the words as if speaking them with enough conviction could force them to be true. "None of us are. We're being played. I don't know how, or for what purpose, but it's a sure bet that it has to do with that man attacking us. Which is why we should take him alive. Tonight, if we can."

"So we're not leaving?" Goku asked.

Sanzo spared him a derisive look. "We could return to that town. I'm sure he'd have no difficulties hacking his way through the population to get to us."

"Damn it, Sanzo," Gojyo growled.

"I say we stay here," the monk said. "Any objections?"

Of course there weren't, and at Sanzo's command they willingly strung a few tripwires while darkness fell. As they gathered in the jeep, Gojyo leaned over to prop an elbow on Sanzo's shoulder. "Hey, monk," he asked, "taking him for questioning, is that why you didn't shoot to kill before?"

Sanzo took a drag from his last cigarette, exhaled smoke. "It should have been."

"If it wasn't, then why _did_\--"

"You had no trouble coming up with reasons before."

"Look, about that...what I said. I'm...I didn't mean it. All of it. I just..."

Finishing the cigarette, Sanzo tossed it into the direction of the inn's remains. "Close your eyes and put your head down, kappa. We're faking sleep until he comes."

"If he shows."

"He has twice before. Goku, make sure you don't fall asleep for real."

"I won't."

"Sanzo, really. Why didn't you--"

"I don't know," Sanzo said.

The blond hair hid his eyes, but Gojyo examined his profile, the set of his shoulders, the tight jaw. Sighing, he leaned back. "It's even getting to you, isn't it. Whatever the hell it is, this not knowing crap. Be careful with that gun, Sanzo. Don't want to shoot one of us by mistake."

"No," said Sanzo, quietly, and a shiver went down Gojyo's spine, because that soft agreement was more dangerous than any of the times the monk had threatened to put a hole in his head. If he couldn't trust Sanzo's control...

But they didn't have a choice. Whatever had been or was being done to them, all they had to rely on, now, as always, was their own selves.

With his eyes closed but his body tensed to hold sleep at bay, the night became a frightening thing. Even the buzzing cicadas sounded threatening, and the cool breeze raised gooseflesh on his bare arms. He could hear Goku shift behind him, though Sanzo was silent--man didn't so much as snore, as far as Gojyo had ever heard, so that was accurate enough. But were there other noises in the darkness? Footsteps, perhaps, panther-quiet and just as deadly...

He was braced for it, and yet when the rustle of the caught string scattering the dried leaves finally sounded, he still jumped like a scalded cat. Sanzo was right, the subtle approach had been best, an alarm that didn't sound like an alarm at all--for when Hakuryuu's headlights flashed on, they silhouetted the figure as he bolted past.

No, not past, around, coming for them with a new, whole blade shining in his gloved fist. "Just don't give up, do you?" Gojyo snarled, lashing up the shakujou and whirling its crescent into the night. Not aiming for the man at all, trying rather to trap him in the chain, but the cunning bastard caught on, and flipped over the metal rings like an acrobat.

Before he could land, Goku extended Nyoibou, the staff sweeping up to slam him out of the air, and even those preternatural reflexes weren't enough for him to twist out of the way in time. Knocked to the ground, he rolled, kept rolling until he was back on his feet, and stopped there, watching them again, that same predator's crouch. Behind the black mask Gojyo could feel his stare, and it burned his blood even as it froze. The bastard flitted back, lightly, waving the knife almost playfully in invitation.

He wanted them to come for him, engage him directly. And they didn't have a choice.

Goku leapt for him first, Nyoibou a whirling blur in his hands, and the man ducked and wove to avoid it, graceful as a bird in flight. But this wasn't a couple's dance, and if the guy thought they would play by any rules of honorable combat, he had no business attacking them at all. With a vicious grin Gojyo whipped the shakujou around, drawing in its fallen chain so that the blade screamed through the air, right where the man had to dodge to miss Goku's next blow.

Except he didn't dodge, taking the hit instead, so the shakujou's sweep cut empty space. The bastard was down, but only for an instant, though the staff's clout should have cracked ribs. Nevertheless he was springing to his feet, and he still had the knife.

The last time Gojyo had seen Sanzo move so fast was when he had gone up against Goku's other, uncontrolled self. The monk was out of the jeep and past Goku before the shakujou's blade snapped back into its socket. No gun this time, just brute force, and for all his size Sanzo was a hell of a lot stronger than he looked. He grabbed the black-sleeved arm wielding the knife and twisted back, and Gojyo heard the crack of breaking bone, though the figure still made no sound.

Then the man yanked away, spun a kick into Sanzo's stomach and dropped him to his knees. His right arm hung useless at his side, but with his other hand he snatched up the fallen knife and in the same smooth arc drove it towards the monk's eyes.

But Gojyo was in motion, and to hell with taking him alive; he wanted the bastard's head. He flung out the shakujou's deadly curve again, a miniature moon shining under the crescent in the sky overhead, but the man caught that glitter out of the corner of his eye. Aborting his stab, he lunged from its path, and Gojyo wrenched the pole around to alter the weapon's trajectory.

He missed, but not entirely; the tip of the blade caught on the black mask and tore the silk, a long strip of darkness rippling against the night. The man rolled to his feet, crouched in the long beams of the headlights, his head dropped low. Stark against the shadows, Gojyo could see him pant, shoulders rising and falling in great gasps. So the son of a bitch was hurt after all. He smiled a little colder.

Then the man's head came up, to fix him with that predator's glare, and the white light shone harsh on his face, illuminating finely made features, a straight gentle mouth and clear dark eyes. Not a killer's visage at all, set with a scholar's sensitive perception, a teacher's patience.

And Gojyo could only stare, at last undone. "_...Hakkai?_"


	8. Revelation: Violet

Before that face lifted into the light, before even the mask ripped, Sanzo knew. He suspected that he had seen it the previous night, that it had been that subliminal realization which had mastered his hand, so that he aimed for the knife and not the man wielding it. There was something too familiar in the smooth viciousness of that slender figure, a feral civility in the sweep of his blade which he knew too well.

From Goku's gasp, he had not been so perceptive. And Gojyo--the halfbreed wasn't thinking at all anymore. Sanzo heard him whisper Hakkai's name, and the shakujou clanked as the pole hit the side of the jeep, chain rattling as it coiled uselessly on the ground.

Then Hakkai had turned away from the light, was running away into the woods, hunched low over his injuries and cradling his broken arm.

"Hakkai!" And Gojyo was dashing after him, leaving his weapon lying in the dirt.

"Gojyo!" Goku took a couple steps after them, but at least the ape had the sense not to immediately lose himself in the darkness as well. "Sanzo--Sanzo, was that really--"

As if he would have any way of knowing. "You saw him as clearly as me. Where'd they go?"

He could hear footsteps crashing through the forest, but not well enough to track them. But Goku had the ears of a bat. "There," he pointed unerringly, and then he was off and running. Snapping on the flashlight he had had ready, Sanzo took off after him. Behind him he heard Hakuryuu's squeal, and knew that the dragon was following them. A whole pack of idiots, charging through a dark wilderness after a killer a thousand times over, and wounded animals were always more dangerous...

Goku stopped abruptly, and Sanzo skidded to a halt beside him, shone the light on Gojyo, who was standing a few yards ahead in a copse of pine. Red hair, red eyes, but no other crimson staining his jacket, though he wasn't moving. The woods were quiet, nothing rustling the surrounding leaves.

"Took him," Gojyo muttered. "He's not alone..." and then the half-youkai swayed and crumpled. Sanzo swore, bolted forward in time to catch him before he hit the ground.

"Is he--" Goku choked.

"He's breathing." The damn kappa was deadweight in his arms, but the rise and fall of his chest against Sanzo's shoulders was strong and steady. "Is--_he_ anywhere around here?"

"I don't think so..." Goku cocked his head, shook it. "I don't hear anything."

Nor feel anything, Sanzo read, in the relaxing of his posture. With that assurance he lowered Gojyo to the forest floor, pried open one of his eyelids and shone the flashlight into it. Cursed again. "He's been drugged."

"I thought I smelled something strange," Goku said, sniffed the air and shook his head. "It's gone now. Sanzo..."

"Kyuu?" Hakuryuu touched to earth beside Gojyo's head, butted his cheek with its muzzle inquisitively.

Sanzo glanced at the dragon. "Change," he ordered it. It would be better to put some distance between them and this place. Though there hadn't been any trouble locating them before. But he hadn't returned the previous nights; hopefully the pattern would continue.

He and Goku would be enough to defend against him as it were. Not as if Gojyo would be any good anyway. Not against Hakkai. Sanzo had seen that in his face, even before he had dropped the shakujou. The damn moron was lucky he wasn't already dead. How had he survived this confrontation in the woods?

After retrieving the weapon and the rest of their supplies where Hakuryuu had let them fall, they only went a couple miles, not far enough to be hopelessly lost in the wilderness. Goku was silent as they drove, but after they parked he mumbled, "Sanzo?"

"Would you rather watch or sleep now?"

"I..." Sanzo didn't need to look to know the ape would be watching him, all earnest query in his face. He yelled when Sanzo hit him and whined that Sanzo didn't feed him and yet somehow, despite all those protests, still persisted in believing that Sanzo knew everything, that Sanzo could answer any question. However many times Sanzo had been wrong didn't impact this certainty.

It never failed to give Sanzo a headache. Though by this point he didn't know if he would able to think at all, without that persistent migraine reminding him he was awake.

"Sanzo, was that--"

"Tomorrow, Goku," he said. If they remembered any of this when they woke up. He didn't trust his own mind in the night, not with so much darkness in his recollections already.

And maybe Goku understood--Goku had plenty enough shadows in his memories, after all--or maybe Sanzo had hit that tone to which Goku always responded, though he never was quite sure why. At any rate, the youkai only said, "I'll take first watch," and sat up cross-legged on the seat.

Sanzo, confident that he was too charged and upset to nod off, took the hours to sleep. His dreams were as to be expected, but when Goku called his name he awoke clear-headed, and the throbbing behind his eyes had diminished to a vague pressure. The stars overhead twinkled in a velvet black sky, not a cloud visible. As Goku and Gojyo snored, he watched them fade one by one into the grays of dawn.

To his unacknowledged relief, Gojyo woke normally come morning. His face was wan as he threw up an arm to hide his eyes from the sun, but his groan was intelligible. "What a hangover..."

Then he sat up in the back of the jeep as if stuck with a pin, even as he winced at the motion. "Damn--what hit me? There was..." He dug the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. "I thought I saw...there was someone else in the woods with him, threw dust at me, but I don't remember..." He coughed, cleared his throat experimentally and must not have found a problem, for voice was sharp enough. "What the hell was that last night? You saw it, too, right?"

"We saw it," Goku said.

"You weren't dreaming," Sanzo confirmed.

"Unless we all were--was it seriously him? I mean...after all that? It was him all along?"

Sanzo was getting damn tired of that hysterical edge quavering in his laughter. "Probably."

"Shit. Guess I was wrong after all. Since I couldn't have seen Hakkai kill Hakkai..."

"That guy..." Goku's hands, resting on his knees, clenched into fists. "Was that guy really Hakkai?"

"You said you saw him..."

"I saw what he looked like, but..." The golden eyes were staring down at his lap, but Sanzo knew they were seeing the vicious attacks of that figure in black. "I know how Hakkai fights, I would've known it before. Even if I couldn't see his face. I should've recognized him the first night. But that guy...that wasn't Hakkai fighting."

He had seen, but he hadn't understood. But you couldn't expect that much from an ape, Sanzo supposed. "That wasn't Hakkai."

"But Sanzo, his face..."

Sanzo sighed. "Think, bakazaru. Have you ever seen Hakkai fight with any weapon besides his ki? He doesn't use blades."

"But he has," Gojyo said. "I mean, he did, before..." And trailed off, comprehension widening his eyes.

Sanzo nodded. "Last night, that wasn't Cho Hakkai fighting. That was Cho Gonou."


	9. Revelation: Gold

It made sense. He hadn't known it until Sanzo had said it--Sanzo was always so good at seeing the truth. Goku hated it when Gojyo called him a dumb ape, because really, it wasn't like Gojyo was so brilliant, but Sanzo had a certain right. Sanzo understood things in ways Goku couldn't, and didn't know if he ever could. He didn't know if he wanted to anyway. A lot of what made Sanzo the way he was seemed to be those things he understood. And besides, Goku always had Sanzo to tell him what he didn't get.

But that was why he had seen Hakkai and not seen him at the same time. The same body, but the wrong motion; the same features, but the wrong expression. Cho Gonou.

"How?" Gojyo was arguing, not because he didn't believe it, but because Gojyo needed to be angry, and Sanzo was there. "Hakkai's over that, he got over it. It didn't work when Chin Isou tried it."

"Obviously this is something different," Sanzo replied, and Goku wondered if Gojyo noticed how patient he was being. Wondered if even Sanzo noticed. "They screwed with our memories somehow; if they altered his...you said you saw someone in the woods."

Gojyo nodded. "Don't know who--the guy was all in black. Same as Hakkai, but it wasn't Hakkai. Shorter, a little broader. He threw something at me, I smelled something sweet--tried not to breathe it in, but I was--I couldn't move. Then the lights went out."

"You're lucky your damn-fool throat wasn't slit," Sanzo snapped.

"Don't tell me you were _worried_."

"As you pointed out before," Sanzo said, coolly, "I'm in danger of running out of servants. And you're a liability if you can't keep your head."

"Don't know why they didn't bother," Gojyo muttered, rubbing his neck as if imagining a fatal wound.

"Obviously they're playing some game. If all they were after was our deaths they might as well have killed us a week ago, back at the inn--they must have had a hold over us then, to fuck with our minds. Maybe the same damn drug that knocked you out last night, or something else. Whatever it was had to be strong enough for us to believe the hallucinations a week later."

"Was it hallucinations? Just dreams?" asked Gojyo. "Why'd we all see...we remember some things totally different, and some things just the same..." He closed his eyes, crossed his arms over his chest, and Goku knew what he was viewing in his mind, the blood, Hakkai's empty eyes. "It wasn't real, was it?" he mumbled, almost inaudibly. "It couldn't have been real, we saw him last night, he was--he's alive..."

"We all saw him," Sanzo said, and he didn't even look like he minded repeating it.

"Sanzo," Goku asked, "what are we going to do about him? How do we help Hakkai, if he's trying to kill us?"

"Not Hakkai," Gojyo said, as if he were reminding himself. "Gonou...they must've told him we did it. That we're Hyakugan-mao's guys...gods. He really was like that. I always knew it, but... A thousand. I can see it now. Fighting that..."

"Worse now," Sanzo said, flatly. "He's got Hakkai's strength, Hakkai's reflexes."

"And he wants us dead. Dammit, I've had enough of this fighting _you_," and Gojyo glared back at Goku.

"This would be easier if it were just a matter of getting a limiter back on," Sanzo remarked. "Not knowing what's wrong with him, we don't have a damn clue how to get him back to his right mind. If it even can be done."

"So we catch him and figure it out."

"Brilliant plan," Sanzo lauded with biting sarcasm. "You have any amazing ideas of how to manage that?"

"We got all day, right? We set some traps, come up with a strategy. When he comes tonight we'll be ready for him."

It wasn't nearly that simple, of course. Goku let them argue it out, not having much to offer in the way of tactics. He knew how to fight, and that was the extent of it. Whatever Sanzo instructed was what he would do when Hakkai returned tonight.

He knew it was wrong, but a little of him was excited by the thought. He had never had the chance to fight Gonou, except that briefest of confrontations outside Gojyo's house, and Gonou had been hurt then and not wanting to fight back, only defending himself. Goku remembered that night so clearly, how surprised he had been to find that slender man had such strength. Of course he had, enough to kill a thousand and more...._Is he really evil, Sanzo?_ Because Goku had some knowledge of evil, and he hadn't felt its cold desires in Gonou's desperation.

Last night, and the night before that...evil didn't motivate those attacks, but more than just implacable force. Absolute determination; he wanted them dead. Goku knew Hakkai could hate, in a way he himself could not. He knew, but that Hakkai would hate _them_, that all the stifled fury you could see burning in his eyes once in a great while, would be directed toward them...

But he hadn't killed them, had retreated every night, even when their victory was by no means definite. So maybe Gonou wanted them dead, but Hakkai did not.

If Hakkai were still there at all.

Come nightfall Sanzo and Gojyo were still at odds. Dinner passed with the half-youkai muttering curses and insults which the monk ignored, and Goku busied himself with building up his strength. He would need it. Then it was dark, and all they could do was wait. No feigning sleep tonight; the jeep was parked under the tallest oak, an empty decoy, while they all waited in ambush, crouched in the underbrush around the clearing.

An hour passed, then two, then three, and Goku began to wonder if he would come at all tonight. Perhaps he couldn't find them, perhaps he had given up, perhaps he was still healing...

The insects knew first. He heard the crickets go silent to his left, and a rustle in the leaves no greater than a ferret might make. Then the figure in black, masked again, glided into the clearing, heading toward the jeep, only to stop mere feet beyond the trees.

He turned his head slowly, until he was staring directly at Goku. Maybe his diadem had reflected the moonlight, maybe his pulse had beat too loudly; at any rate, he had been spotted, and there was no more need for secrecy. The jeep's headlights flashed on, flooding the clearing, and with a yell Goku burst from the concealing bushes and charged Hakkai.

He was hoping to force him a few steps back, just a couple and he would put his foot in one of the carefully hidden snares. But the man skipped to the side instead, so Goku had to redirect his rush, and only narrowly avoided the knife as it slashed around. In his left hand, and his right arm was bound to his side--so it had been broken. But that hardly seemed to bother him, as he wove out of the way of Goku's punches as easily as a fish evades grasping hands. The knife stabbed up, suddenly, and Goku lunged back barely in time, missed another snare by an inch. With a few feet between them he paused to catch his breath, wiped his mouth and felt his lips curving in a smile.

This was a real fight, the first chance he had to engage him without the others interfering. They were letting him go first; if he could but force his opponent into making a misstep...but Hakkai's instincts were uncanny, and he was watching where Goku put his feet, keeping to the same safe places. As if he knew the traps were there...probably he did. He knew them.

Though it was hard to remember this was Hakkai at all; he was fighting Cho Gonou, a man lost to an ultimately futile vengeance. And somewhere in his heart, he must know it, know that he had already failed this quest years ago; there was a hopelessness to his battle, in how he abandoned defense for the sake of a strike. He was not fighting for his own life, and that might have been a weakness, usually...

But Goku was fighting for both their lives, and that hindered him more. He had to pull his worse blows, hesitated to call forth Nyoibou--too easy to kill with the staff's power. With that impairment he felt himself slowly being forced back, giving ground under the onslaught of the flashing knife. And Hakkai, Gonou, his opponent, knew it; Goku could feel him smiling, behind that black mask, triumph in the forthright way he slid forward, every step when Goku's feet had been an instant before.

At least he wasn't youkai. With his limiters Gonou fought like a human, incredibly fast and strong, but no teeth or claws, and the will driving him was not as madly bloodthirsty as a demon's. A man can be just as vicious, however, and Goku was driven back under that murderous assault.

But Sanzo was expecting better of him. Goku retreated another step, an unnecessary falter, and his opponent took the opening, thrusting down and overextending himself. With a growl fully as animal as they always said he was, Goku sprang up, deserting the ground entirely to leap into the air and kick out and up, aiming for his chin, snap back his head and maybe knock him out.

Which was a mistake, a bad one, for this was Hakkai, who had seen him fight countless times before, and the surprise was no surprise at all. The knife was down, out of range, but he twisted his torso sideways, ripped his broken arm from the sling and smashed the cast against Goku's skull.

He fell, half-stunned, only narrowly missing springing a trap, and dropped to his knees before Hakkai.

Then Gojyo was there. "My turn, bakazaru," the half-youkai said, and the figure in black was upon him.

Goku shook his head muzzily, blinked his star-spotted vision back into focus. Gojyo was fighting, barehanded since the shakujou was too easily fatal, but he couldn't get a throw off when he couldn't even get in range. With the knife Hakkai's reach equaled his, and his speed was greater by a fair amount. Forget about leading him into a snare; it was all Gojyo could do to dodge, keeping just a hairsbreadth back from the deadly blade.

And all the while, Gojyo was speaking, low and out of breath. "Hakkai, come on, Hakkai, it's me, you don't want to do this, you really don't, snap out of it, Hakkai--"

But if his opponent recognized the name, he gave no sign. To Goku's eyes his lightning-swift slashes seemed almost impatient, as if Gojyo were a fly just a little too quick to swat. A cockroach, of course, always impossible to stamp out.

Except this bug was getting tired, and then he ducked left when it should have been right, and Goku shouted Gojyo's name as the knife jabbed down.

Sanzo's gun sounded, but Hakkai must have seen the starlight on the barrel, because he interrupted his stab to dip out of the bullet's path in a fluid curtsey. In the empty clearing, however, starkly lit by the headlights, there was nowhere to dodge, and he froze as Sanzo leveled the revolver at him, hammer cocked and muzzle pointed at his head.

Then Gojyo was between them, blocking Sanzo's line of fire. "Kill him and I'll kill you," the half-youkai snarled, no irony in his tone.

"Bloody moron!" Sanzo growled back. "And if he kills you first?"

"Look out!" Goku cried, and Gojyo swerved out of the blade's gleaming arc, dropped to the ground. Goku thought he had tripped, and then he saw Gojyo lunge up, hook his arm around Hakkai's knees to bring them both tumbling down, Gojyo on top twisting back the hand with the knife.

"Hakkai," he said, all raw despair. "Don't do this, this isn't you now." With his other hand he grasped the black mask, ripped it off so he could see Hakkai's face--Gonou's face, mouth set in a ruthless line, dark eyes clear and blank and unrecognizing as they stared up at Gojyo. "Please, Hakkai, you gotta be in there somewhere, you gotta remember--"

Without warning, Hakkai bucked up, arching his spine to slam his knee into the half-youkai's back. Gojyo released his arm, and instantly he had reclaimed the knife and was stabbing upward. The redhead had no choice but to rock back, throwing out his arm to catch himself.

His hand landed on the trip of a snare. Before he could pull it back there was a twang like a breaking bow, and Gojyo's wrist was circled in twine, bound in place like a sacrificial goat, and Hakkai with the blade to complete the offering. Sanzo brought up the gun again as Goku bounded across the clearing, calling Nyoibou to his hands; the staff might reach in time even if he could not.

"I know where she is, Gonou!" Gojyo shouted.

Hakkai went rigid, knife poised to pierce the half-youkai's chest. "Your lover," Gojyo panted, staring up at him. "I know where she was taken--_don't_!" he hissed, as he saw Sanzo take aim. "You neither, Goku. I know what you want, Gonou," and all his focus returned to Hakkai. "I can show you where she is."

Hakkai's lips moved for a moment before the words came, as if he had to remember how to use his voice. "You...lie."

"No lie." And Gojyo's voice was almost breaking. His eyes were wide but Goku saw no fear in his face, only absolute resolve, as if he were reaching for Hakkai with all his will, heedless of the death only a foot from his heart. "Let me show you."

Gonou's smooth brow furrowed, blank eyes narrowing. But when Gojyo reached up he neither moved back nor plunged the knife forward.

Then Gojyo's hand was on his ear, and Goku heard Sanzo shout, even as he understood himself and sprang for them.

Too late. With a flick of the wrist Gojyo plucked off the three cuffs glittering on Hakkai's earlobe, the limiters clinking faintly as his fist closed over them.

And then Hakkai was screaming...


	10. Gamble: Red, Violet

There are few certainties in life. Perhaps the only absolute is that it ends in death. Once you have accepted that, then you can do anything, because there isn't any reason not to.

But Gojyo had never been more sure of anything than he was of this. Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was logic, maybe it was that there was no other way. Maybe it was because he knew Hakkai, had always known him, from the moment he had found him, that rainy night, a stranger more familiar than his own brother. "Trust me," and he knew he was speaking too quietly for Goku or Sanzo to hear, but he said it anyway. "I know what I'm doing."

And he tore off the limiters.

Goky was shouting, and Sanzo as well, but Gojyo could barely hear them over Hakkai's scream. He staggered back, clutching at his head, shaking it wildly back and forth as if trying to dislodge something stuck inside. In the jeep's white headlights he was shimmering, a corona of red and green only visible as an afterimage when you blinked. Black silk stretched as his chest expanded, muscles of his arms rippling against the tight costume. Between his fingers thrust sharp-tipped ears, and sharper points glistened in his open mouth.

But when his hand came down--talon now, ending in claws as fierce as the knife--his eyes still were green. There was rage in them yet, but also something else, something Gojyo dared believe he recognized.

He still was caught in the snare, twine rubbing his wrist raw, might as well have been trussed like a turkey for the kill for all the defense he had. To his side he could see Goku, Nyoibou bright in his hands, and without looking he knew Sanzo was behind him, and his gun would be aimed at Hakkai's head. Tough call for them, he knew, let Hakkai tear him asunder, or kill their best comrade to save the idiot kappa...he thought he knew which they would choose. Sanzo, at least, because Sanzo would know what Hakkai would want, were he in his right mind, and wouldn't give a damn about Gojyo's opinion...

But Hakkai had not yet raised those razor-sharp talons. He stood there, braced between them, great gasps hissing from that broad chest. A pattern of vines and leaves curled up one cheekbone and disappeared under his hair, and Gojyo fleetingly wondered if the rest of him were so marked.

"Hakkai," he said, kneeling straight up, his caught wrist preventing him from standing. "Do you remember?"

In his peripheral vision he saw Goku sidle forward, one step, then another, ready to throw himself before Gojyo should Hakkai pounce. Stupid ape.

Sanzo's voice sounded from the shadows behind him, calm and resolute and undeniable. "She's dead, Hakkai. They're all dead. There's nothing left for your vengeance."

His mouth opened, and for a moment Gojyo thought those fangs would next sink into his flesh. But he spoke instead. "No...she can't be..." Lower, rougher, but it was Hakkai's voice.

"You watched her take her own life," Sanzo said, and he might as well have fired the revolver, for the words struck Hakkai as deeply to the heart. He lurched back, his good hand going up, to block his ears, or his eyes, or...

Gojyo remembered that look, rain and fog scattering the moonlight, and green eyes raising to his with a smile that welcomed death, and he could no more see that wish granted now than he could have then. "No!" he shouted, lunging forward, almost pulling his arm from his socket as the snare bit into his wrist, but they had made it too well and it didn't snap.

The youkai's hand came up, claws curving toward his pale throat, to rip it open and let the memories flow away with his own blood.

But fast as he was, Goku was faster. Nyoibou shrieked like a whip, whistling around to slam across the back of Hakkai's head with a sharp crack.

His eyes went wide, his mouth parted, and then he dropped like a stone, crumpling into a black heap on the forest floor.

A rustle of robes brought Sanzo to Gojyo's side. "The limiters," the monk barked, and Gojyo dropped the three little cuffs into his outstretched palm. Goku was already by Hakkai, cautiously prodding him, to no reaction. Sanzo knelt on his other side, slipped the rings back on his ear, and Gojyo saw the dark mass shrink a little as Hakkai's human form was restored. Then the monk had produced a length of rope and was efficiently tying up the black figure.

Abruptly they lost their light, as Hakuryuu transformed from the jeep to glide over and land by Hakkai's head, crooning anxiously. Goku patted the dragon comfortingly as he also looked down at his face, just a pale streak in the moonlight from this distance. "Hey," Gojyo said, "if it's all good over there, I could use a little help...no hurry, now..."

"Sorry!" Goku bounced up, snatched Hakkai's fallen knife and freed him with one cut--damn sharp blade, that. Gojyo rubbed his bleeding wrist as he sprinted over, needing to reassure himself that this really was Hakkai, that he was breathing, that all of this was real.

Really him, and he was, and it was, and Gojyo's legs gave out, depositing him on the ground next to Sanzo. The monk spared him a sidelong glance before getting out a cigarette. Good idea, though his hands were shaking as he tapped one out of his own pack. Before he could reach for his lighter Sanzo flicked his own underneath it.

With a nod of thanks, Gojyo took a deep drag, let the nicotine soothe him before he dared look down again at Hakkai. Brown hair fell into his closed eyes, the shadows cast over them deep blue in the moonlight. His ears were rounded again, human, and no trace remained of that delicate coil of leaves on his face. There was something so terribly, pitifully vulnerable in the lax angle of his head, sunk back against the bundle of Goku's cloak, and his arms and legs were tightly bound.

But alive.

"It's him, isn't it, Sanzo?" Goku asked.

"Apparently." Gojyo had fallen for hoaxes before, but Sanzo was never fooled by imposters.

"And he's not going anywhere." Gojyo heard the tremor in his voice and stopped it. "Good plan, huh?"

Violet eyes fixed on him through a spiral of smoke. "Next time you're about to be that brilliant, be so good as to explain ahead of time. Otherwise your genius might be confused with complete fucking insanity."

"It worked, didn't it?" Felt like there was more in his cigarette than tobacco. He couldn't even get angry at the bastard monk. But his head was totally clear, and if he listened he could hear Hakkai's soft, steady exhalations.

"Shame he didn't tear your damn-fool head off. It might've taught you something."

"Aw, Sanzo-sama, you're so cute when you're worried."

Frankly he hadn't known a human throat was capable of growling like that, much less such an esteemed voice-box as Sanzo's. But the monk must have been too satisfied with his own cigarette to bother with fan or gun. Or maybe he was listening to Hakkai breathe as well. When he spoke again his tone was uncharacteristically quiet, contemplative. "It was a risk."

"I am a gambler, y'know."

"Who's too stupid to bother calculating the odds."

"Nah, I do if I have to. But it's easier to cheat. And sometimes...sometimes you're down to the last hand, and there's nothing else you can do but bet it all, and cross your fingers."

"So you didn't know?" He had half-thought Goku might have dozed off, sitting in a ball at Hakkai's head with his chin on his knees, but his quiet question cut through the night as sharply as Sanzo's eyes. "You didn't know it would work, you just did it?"

Gojyo studied the glowing tip of his cigarette, orange specks in the darkness. Though of the emptiness of Hakkai's eyes, and wondered what would be there when they opened again. "Cho Gonou only killed once as a youkai, and after that he just wanted...it to be over. I knew she was already dead when he became youkai, and I thought, maybe becoming it again would remind him."

"And if it didn't shock him into remembering?" Sanzo asked.

"Like you said--it was a risk."

"Stupid cockroach!"

Gojyo blinked at the kid's vehemence, but Goku's head was buried in his arms. "Oi, saru. It worked, didn't it? All's well that ends well."

"This isn't ended," Sanzo pronounced. "Not even close. Whoever did this is still out there."

And Hakkai hadn't woken up yet to tell them who that was.

Gojyo volunteered for first watch. Second, third, didn't matter. He wouldn't be sleeping tonight. He had no desire to. Better to sit and smoke and study the silent figure lying before them, waiting.

The last week felt unreal, dream-like. Being in an alcoholic stupor for most of it probably figured into that--and Hakkai would have a stinging comment to make about that, should he ever find out, Gojyo thought with an agreeable wince. But so did whatever the hell illusion or hallucination had been cast on them. Didn't matter now, though. It was over, nightmare passed.

He didn't want to go to sleep. Not when he risked waking to find this moment now was the dream.

_You're a fucking sap after all_, he chided himself.

But with no one awake to see him, he couldn't help but smile a little, watching Hakkai's still face.

* * *

Hakkai came awake crying her name. Nothing new there. The only reason any of them knew it at all was from his occasional nightmares; it wasn't as if he ever spoke it when awake. Maybe to Gojyo; Sanzo had no real idea how much they had talked, if ever, before this journey began. Gojyo kept Hakkai's secrets even closer than his own.

If he rolled over they would realize he was awake, so Sanzo stayed still, his back to them, and listened to Gojyo's urgent, "Hakkai?"

Damn halfbreed. The sky was gray with the approaching dawn and he hadn't bothered to wake either Sanzo or Goku to take his watch, the selfish bastard.

"Ah..." Hakkai exhaled in a quiet sigh, almost a whimper. Sanzo heard him shift against the ground, the creaking of the rope binding him.

"Hakkai?" Gojyo asked again.

"She...she...I was too late," and that whisper chilled Sanzo, not in its hopelessness, but that there was something almost wondering about it, as if he were amazed that it could have so happened that way. "She took her life...before me...it was over before I could reach her..."

"I'm sorry," Gojyo said, roughly. "Dammit, Hakkai, I'm sorry you had to remember all that again."

On his other side, Sanzo frowned. The idiot kappa was listening to him so closely he wasn't hearing him at all...

But it was enough that Hakkai became aware of Gojyo's presence. His tone was polite when he spoke again, calm. "If I may ask, why am I tied up?"

"We were kind of worried about you trying to kill us."

"That's...reasonable."

"You still planning to?"

"No." Not startled, just honest, and Sanzo listened to Gojyo work the knots loose to free his hands, the rustle of cloth as Hakkai sat up. "Thank you."

"Mm. You want something to drink? We got instant."

"Just water would be fine."

A gurgle as Gojyo poured from canteen to cup, and another quiet thanks from Hakkai. The half-youkai was smoking, and the tobacco scent made Sanzo crave his own cigarettes, but he stayed motionless. The silence lasted long enough for Hakkai to drink several glasses before he asked, with that same soft calm, "Excuse me, but how did I get here?"

"Goku clocked you over the head last night. Do you remember any of that?"

"No...I'm afraid... I don't remember much of late."

"Shit. Why am I not surprised? Look, we don't know what's going on, either. Far as we can tell, you were snatched by some mysterious bastards a week ago, and we would've gone looking for you, but they messed with our heads, made us think you...made us think you'd gone and bit it. A couple days ago we figured out there was something screwy with that, and then we found out you were alive, so we worked out how to get you--"

"Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why do you want me?"

"Dammit," Gojyo growled, "why the hell do you think, Hakkai?"

And then he said it, what Sanzo had been waiting for him to ask since he had awoken and his first words had not been Hakkai's. "Why do you keep calling me that? Who are you? Who do you think I am? My name is Gonou. Cho Gonou..."


	11. Gamble: Gold

It was strange, Goku couldn't help but think, how everything could be so right and so wrong at the same time. They were eating eggs fried on rocks around a campfire, as they had a dozen times before, a hundred--or at least three of them were eating, while Gojyo watched from a couple dozen yards away, leaning against a tree and smoking his breakfast. Which was annoying in itself, because it meant there was no portion he could steal from the kappa...

Not that that would help much. It wasn't Goku's stomach that ached, when he peeked across the fire at the silent man sitting in Hakkai's body.

He had awoken to Gojyo's shouting. "Cho Hakkai, dammit, you're Cho Hakkai!" And then Sanzo had been there, pulling the half-youkai off Hakkai.

"Go cool your head," the monk had ordered, and after Gojyo had stormed off, he nodded to Hakkai, with that polished veneer of manners Sanzo could occasionally assume. "I apologize for that."

"That's...quite all right," Hakkai had said, and Goku had shivered, because it was Hakkai's voice, Hakkai's soft courtesy, but it wasn't Hakkai, the same way the man wielding the knife had not been him.

Gojyo returned as they finished breakfast, empty pack crumpled in his fist and a distance in his face that was more disturbing than anger or pain. "I'm sorry," he said formally, and Hakkai nodded polite acceptance of the apology. Afterwards Hakkai gathered their dirty plates without a word, and started toward the brook babbling down the slope. His broken arm was still in the sling and he moved carefully, a little hunched, and Gojyo snatched the stack of dishes from him.

"What are you doing? Sit down, you're injured, and you're not our servant."

"I..." Hakkai stared down at his hands. "I don't know...I thought I might..."

"Don't think," Gojyo said. "Just sit there." He marched down to the stream to do the washing himself.

Goku considered chasing after him, but he had to ask first, even though he could feel Sanzo's glare scorching him. "Hakkai--umm, Gonou? You really...don't remember us?"

"Should I?" Hakkai's head came up, so Goku glimpsed a flash of green, and then it dropped again, dark bangs falling over his eyes. "Excuse me...I don't know who any of you are."

"I'm Son Goku," Goku offered, not knowing how else to handle that empty tone.

"Aa." The brown head nodded, barely.

"And this is Sanzo."

"Genjo Sanzo," Sanzo said. "And the idiot housekeeper with the red hair goes by Sha Gojyo."

At that he looked up, seemingly only for an instant, but Sanzo caught his eyes and trapped him in a violet gaze. "And you'd just as soon he stayed away, wouldn't you," the monk said.

Under the black silk the shoulders twitched in a brief, automatic flinch. "I have no reason to..."

"You see that red, and all you can think of is blood." Sanzo snorted. "Pathetic."

Hakkai's eyes narrowed, and for an instant his placid expression shattered into something fierce and unforgiving. Then, as quickly as a pond's ripples die away after the thrown stone has sunk, it smoothed back into calm.

"Ch'," Sanzo muttered, drew up his robes and stood. "You'll have some freedom from it for now. The kappa and I are going back to that clearing where he saw the man the night before last. There might be something left around to find in daylight. Goku, you stay with our guest." His eyes flickered over the bandaged arm. "See he doesn't hurt himself further."

So Goku sat with his arms around his knees, and watched him. Hakkai looked so strange, the black silk wrapped around him making his long limbs look more slender than ever, and his skin even paler than Sanzo's against its darkness. Without the green of his shirt to bring out his eyes, their shades shifted, bright like grass in sunlight, dark as deep water in shadow. Living eyes, but lowered, unwilling to meet his, while Hakkai had never hesitated to face any of them.

For a while Hakkai just sat there, thinking, or maybe not thinking, but not asleep, Goku could tell by the stiffness of his frame. When he finally spoke, Goku almost jumped. "It's Goku-kun, isn't it?"

Goku shifted. "Not the 'kun'. Not with me."

Hakkai's brow furrowed. "I...see."

"You're our friend," Goku said. "Even though you don't remember."

"I think you might be mistaken," Hakkai said quietly. "I'm not who you seem to believe I am."

"No, you are. You're Gonou, but you're Hakkai, too. It's just, Hakkai has always been Gonou, but Gonou wasn't always Hakkai. So you're confused now."

That little breathy laugh might almost be Hakkai's, if it weren't so despairing. "I am confused. I won't deny that. But you, that priest, Genjo Sanzo..."

"Sanzo," Goku told him. "It's just Sanzo."

"Sanzo, and that other man. Is it possible you're confused, too? That you think I'm someone, when I'm not? If your enemies...my enemies...if they are doing things to our mind, maybe they made you all imagine someone who's not real. Maybe this 'Hakkai' doesn't exist at all."

"No, he's real." Goku shook his head firmly. "I've known him for over three years. I've fought alongside him, eaten with him. He cooks for me, he takes care of all of us. He's Hakuryuu's master."

"Haku...ryuu?"

"The jeep they took. He's a dragon sometimes, and he's your pet. He really missed you, when we thought...he was really upset." Goku stared into the fire's embers until the glowing afterimages were burned onto his retina. "We all were."

"Goku-kun." He looked up, to find Hakkai looking back, with no recognition, but care nonetheless. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You're here now. And Sanzo will figure this out, how to get you all the way back." There had to be a way. Traveling without Hakkai...it didn't really work. Sanzo could drive and get them rooms, and Gojyo could shop and talk to people, and they all could fight, but they couldn't heal, and none of them cooked anywhere near as well. Hakuryuu seated four, and there had to be a reason for that.

Except that wasn't really it at all, because they could find other cooks, and other healers, but they wouldn't have Hakkai's warm understanding, when Goku woke late in the night from dreams he didn't remember. They wouldn't be able to say those quiet things that made Sanzo's eyes narrow in anger but his mouth twist in humor, and Gojyo would leave every night for drinks and women, rather than stay to play cards and talk. Someone else wouldn't be as good at mahjong, and wouldn't laugh when he and Gojyo argued and Sanzo yelled, and sometimes it was just a polite chuckle but once in a while it was a real laugh, and then it was one of the best sounds in the world.

This man Gonou in Hakkai's body didn't look like he knew what true laughter was, and his smile was an empty thing that hurt to see. That more than anything was why Gojyo wouldn't look at him, Goku thought. Gojyo hated Hakkai's false smiles the most, and Gonou's didn't even hide the pain as Hakkai's did.

Though Gojyo had known Gonou, more than Goku or Sanzo. So maybe it was something else.

"Goku-kun," said the man who wasn't Hakkai, "I really am sorry."

His voice had shifted as he moved. Goku looked up, saw Hakkai was standing, with his hand raised. He cartwheeled backwards as the blow came down, right where his head had been, and registered that it was only a fist, not the knife. Then he had tackled Hakkai around the waist, slammed him into the ground and straddled his chest, holding his wrists down. "What are you _doing_?"

Hakkai didn't try to fight him, only lay there limp, blinking up at him in perplexity. "You're...fast."

"So are you. Why'd you try that?"

"That man Sanzo told you to watch me...he couldn't blame you if I knocked you out before I left."

Which proved he definitely didn't remember Sanzo. "Where are you trying to go?" Goku climbed off Hakkai, allowing him to sit up, but didn't yet release his arm.

"Nowhere...I have nowhere to go. But here...it's not right for me to be here. I'm not who you hope I am."

"Yes, you are, or you will be--"

"You don't know who I am--if you did, if you knew what I've done--you're a youkai, aren't you, Goku-kun? Those eyes are too special to be a human's. If you knew what I did--"

"What?" drawled a voice behind them. "Hyakugan-mao's thousand bastards? Or the cowardly sons of bitches who handed her over to them? Or that she was your sister--what's left to confess?"

Goku had never heard Gojyo speak that way, not to Hakkai. The half-youkai stepped out from trees, his hair crimson flame in the dappled sunlight. "You don't have any secrets. They were laid bare to us years ago. All your crimes. Look at me, damn it!"

Hakkai had lowered his head, turning aside; now Gojyo crouched to grab his chin, wrenching up his head to force their eyes to meet. "I know what you're so damn scared of. Don't worry, Gonou, we're not here for that. We're not your fucking absolvers. We know what you did, we know your sins. It's not that we forgive them. We just don't care."

He pinned him for a moment longer, red eyes flickering over his face as if searching for some signal, some sign of Hakkai; but only Gonou stared back, transfixed by that scarlet glare. Gojyo snorted, a soft explosive, "_Ch'_," and released him, standing.

"Did you find anything?" Goku asked hesitantly into the resulting silence.

Sanzo spoke from the shade of the oak opposite. "Not enough."

"There were footprints, at least. It's more than ghosts." Gojyo shook his head. "Maybe they'll make an appearance tonight. To reclaim their prize," and he cocked his thumb down at Hakkai.

Hakkai blanched. "If they want me...perhaps it would be best if I surrendered myself..."

"Don't flatter yourself," Sanzo replied, coolly. "These bastards are after our heads as well."

"Though they were using him to do their dirty work...think they can fight at all?"

"Maybe they don't believe us enough of a threat to bother with directly."

"Maybe they'll figure different after tonight." Gojyo's smile was all teeth, gleaming like his scythe.

But Goku hesitated. "What if they do what they did before? With the drugs or whatever?" He wanted to fight them, he wanted to fight them badly, whoever it was that had done this, but if they kept using their tricks and pawns...

"We have one advantage," Sanzo said. "We have something we know they want."

Goku didn't get it right away, but Gojyo immediately snapped, "No. No fucking way we use him as bait."

"We don't even know what we're up against. Every damn thing we have over them we need," Sanzo said flatly.

"Sanzo-san." Hakkai climbed to his feet, bowed his head. "I'll do whatever you think is necessary."

Sanzo regarded him, almost impassive, but Goku could see hesitation in his stillness, that brief paralysis that meant Sanzo was thinking so hard he wouldn't even waste energy on motion. At last he took his cigarette from his lips, flicked off the ash. "Don't be so eager to die, asshole."

"And what if they just mess with his head again?" Gojyo demanded. "Send him after us again?"

"Then we'll defend ourselves again."

Gojyo's growl was almost too low to be intelligible. "I told you already, monk--if you kill him..."

"Gojyo-san," and Goku was sure Hakkai didn't see how Gojyo flinched at that address, "if I turn against you, if you have no choice but to--"

"There's a choice," Gojyo snarled. "There's always a choice, and it'd be worth it. But work out your plan, you bastard monk. Nothing stopping you. _He_ doesn't care about Hakkai any more than you do." And like he had done too often of late, he turned and strode into the forest.

Goku started after him, since Sanzo was here to watch Hakkai. But the monk extended his arm to stop him. "Leave him alone. You can track where he's going?"

Goku nodded. As long as Gojyo didn't wander too far he could listen for him, or follow the smoke from his cigarettes if necessary.

"If he's not back by nightfall we'll get him then. We may need him."

"But, Sanzo..."

"Let him be, Goku."

There were more demons than youkai in the gloom under the trees. But Sanzo knew that as well as Goku. And Gojyo could fight as well as any of them, else he wouldn't have survived this long.

Still, Goku kept half his attention on the half-youkai, tracking him as Sanzo had asked, keeping his distance but watching to see he did not become too lost in those shadows.


	12. Assault: Red

New pack. He ripped off the cellophane with his teeth, stashed the wrap in his pocket--Hakkai always scolded him for littering. One cigarette. Two.

It wasn't Hakkai. Hakkai he had met in a sunny marketplace, that quiet smile meeting his, a little painful, but genuine humor, too, an unexpected mischief. He had been surprised, absolutely astonished, and part of him had immediately starting cursing the damn monk for misleading him like that. Then there had been another part of himself, so deep inside he had never realized it was there, but that little corner of his soul had sung like a plucked string in joyful recognition of that smile...

Turn back the clock, rewind the tape. This was Cho Gonou now, that strange man, so strong and so broken, wounded so deeply he couldn't die. Cho Gonou, who he had found and saved out of obstinacy more than kindness; because Gojyo knew loss, and he had been so lost; because Gojyo detested the easiness of life, but even more the easiness of death. Because his eyes had been so green. For a month he had tended Gonou, had fought for him without question.

But Gonou was gone, and Gojyo had never mourned him, at first because he didn't believe in pity, and then because there was Hakkai, and Hakkai was worth Gonou's loss. Gonou had received the death he needed, and Hakkai born from his pyre.

Third cigarette, and after he lit it he let the lighter burn, watching the flame twist in the breeze.

Three years, it had taken, to burn that corpse, three years he had watched Hakkai put aside his ghosts, one day at a time, banishing a thousand three hundred spirits, and hers as well. There had been nightmares, and tears so well hidden that Gojyo knew them only as tissues crumpled in the wastebasket--and Hakkai was always so good about remembering to take out the trash. But every day his smile had been a little more real. He cooked, they played cards. "Gojyo, we need soy sauce." "We're broke, luck's been down." "But Goku and Sanzo are coming...if you want to eat tomorrow, cheat tonight..."

Strange, how he was hard-pressed to remember a single day, all flowing together, and yet the whole was clear as crystal in his mind. He always complained when Sanzo and Goku announced their coming, because the monk got under his skin like no one else, and the monkey always ate everything in the pantry and then some, and Hakkai always insisted that he help with the dusting beforehand. But Hakkai's smile was always at its most real when they were around, something about the openness of Goku's antics, or Sanzo's piercing intuition.

Three years, it had taken, and if nothing else this journey had at least buried those final ashes, when Cho Hakkai had torn out Chin Isou's fake life, and decided to live. Half his smiles still might be false, but they were all Hakkai's.

Not anymore. No matter how deeply he looked into those green eyes, he saw no sign of him remaining.

For a month he had cared for Cho Gonou, formed a kinship with him unlike anything he had known since Jien's parting. It shocked Gojyo a little, how completely he could hate him now.

He threw the cigarette butt down, ground it out under his heel.

"It's useless to blame him for this," said a voice from the twilight shadows. Gojyo looked over at Sanzo, standing stiff as the tree he stood beside, a cigarette glowing in his hand as well. "He has no desire to be here at all."

"I know."

"Hate the bastards who did it. It'll be more productive."

"You have your plan?"

"As much of one as is possible. Given we don't have a damn clue what we're actually up against. He remembers nothing."

Nothing at all. Not a trace of the last week; not a moment of the last three years. Nothing left of the man he was supposed to be. Gojyo thought he should feel sorry for him. Couldn't. "So what are we doing?"

"You're going to stay out here. Sulking. You're doing such a good job of it already, I'm sure you'll manage. But stay close enough to hear us. I'm going to keep a watch and Goku will pretend to sleep, but he'll signal if he senses anything--hears, sees, smells. If nothing happens in the first hour, Hakkai will take a stroll, alone. Be ready to tail him. We might catch the bastards off-guard."

"Not much of a plan."

"You got any better?"

Gojyo took out another cigarette. "You aren't asking--him to do much."

"No."

He eyed Sanzo through the wisp of smoke. "You don't trust him."

"Even if he's being honest with us, they might have a hold on him still. We don't know what we're dealing with. Post-hypnotic suggestion, brainwashing--they might be setting us up."

"But you think it's him. It's Hakkai. Gonou."

Sanzo took a long time to answer. It was getting dark enough that Gojyo could barely make out his eyes, except where they reflected the glinting tip of his cigarette. "It's him," he said at last.

In body, anyway. He tipped his head back against the tree, catching his hair in the rough bark. "You think it's permanent, what they did? Is everything just...gone? Or is Hakkai still in there, somewhere?"

"We don't even know what's causing this. It might be what they did. Or it could be him--psychological. A deliberate regression. Hiding from what they did to him, or what he did because of it." The monk shrugged. "But the mind isn't a book, that you can burn and erase what's written. It's hard to lose something so that it can never be found again."

There was this to be said about Sanzo. You could be sure he wouldn't say something to be comforting. It made it possible to believe him, when you wouldn't anyone else. Gojyo slid down the tree trunk, crouched at the roots with his head rocked back against the bark, staring up at the branches, cigarette hanging forgotten in his fingers. "What'll it take to get it back? Get him back?"

"Who knows?"

"It might be my fault, couldn't it. What I did, snapping him out of it like that. It shocked him out of attacking us, but maybe if we'd gotten through to him some other way..."

"Maybe."

"Go ahead, Sanzo. Tell me how stupid I am. I didn't even see this coming, I didn't even realize it when he woke up this morning. I was talking to him and until he said his name I didn't notice, I was just so damn glad to--I wanted--dammit, you fucking monk, tell me how worthless--"

"Stupid moron," Sanzo said. "It's just as useless to blame yourself. Stop carrying on or I'll shut you up with a bullet."

"You--you'll--you're gonna kill me..." Before Gojyo could help it, he was laughing, breathlessly, but it didn't tear at his throat like it had been. He saw Sanzo's hand raise to slap him out of it, got it under control and hauled himself up with help from the tree, wiping his eyes. Sanzo was staring at him, and Gojyo could see the debate twisting his face, whether to go for the gun and make good on his threat, or smack him upside the head, or simply ignore it. Somehow, too, he could see clearly--was it him seeing more, or was it that Sanzo was too worn to hide them--those things that Sanzo was so very good at burying, panic and concern and everything else that made him more than the bastard he tried so hard to be.

And usually Gojyo was infuriated by such pointless stubbornness, but tonight he saw himself mirrored in those violet eyes--it's so much easier, isn't it, Sanzo-sama, to tell yourself it doesn't matter and you don't care and you hate it and it angers you; it's so much easier to hurt than to be hurting. But until this minute Sanzo hadn't sworn to kill either him or Goku, not for a week, and it wasn't until Gojyo had heard that threat that he realized its lack, and realized too that things could be--not normal, but as they should be. That it was possible, that they would get him back, that hope is something real and Sanzo had it too.

"Damn kappa," Sanzo grumbled. "Get a grip."

"I'm trying," Gojyo said, and the look that flashed across Sanzo's features, a lightning strike of sympathetic worry that was conquered in an instant, almost set him laughing again. "No, I'm all right, I'll be okay. I can do this. It's getting dark, you better get back to them to start this sorry excuse for a plan."

"Don't screw it up," the monk warned, Sanzo-speak for 'don't let us down' and 'we're counting on you' at the same time, and Sanzo didn't put his trust in anyone unless he had absolute faith.

"Ah, damn you, Sanzo-sama," Gojyo murmured, just loud enough. "You're making it too difficult to hate you."

For a moment he thought the monk would take the easy way out and pretend he hadn't heard. Then Sanzo's head turned back, his sharp profile pale against the shadowed trees. "So save it for those who hate us, idiot," he said, and then he was striding back to their camp, leaving Gojyo alone in the twilit forest, with half a pack of cigarettes and a lighter heart than should be possible these days.


	13. Assault: Violet

It was with more than a little trepidation that Sanzo left Gojyo to do his part. He nearly called it off when the half-youkai had started laughing like that, and even though he had mastered it fast enough, there had been that look on his face, like he had passed through something unseen and ended up somewhere Sanzo didn't know...

Gojyo was the weakest of them, always had been, not just in fighting, but in how easily he felt, so quick to fall in love, so little to become attached. So little, too, to anger him, to make him hate. The only reason he survived was because of his absolute stubborn refusal not to. Break his heart and he would just pick it up and push it back inside, but never deep enough that it couldn't be broken again, the next day or the next month. The stupid idiot. Not smart enough to learn any defense, except to attack first, and that does no good when your opponent is faster.

He better get over it; if he kept on this way he would be a liability, and their mission was too important for that. Though if Hakkai were lost as well it would all be moot. If Sanzo and Goku could do this on their own, they would have been doing so from the beginning. Which should be preferable, shouldn't it? Or best of all, by himself entirely, leave even the ape behind and just do what was needed, or die in the trying...

He had no fear of death, no great love of duty. And yet even considering that was unendurable.

Damn the kappa anyway. And damn that look in his eyes, that Sanzo couldn't maintain his anger when he met them, that all he wanted to do was hit him hard enough to knock that old idiotic smirk back onto his face. That he would welcome that insulting, flirtatious 'Sanzo-sama', give him an excuse to spend some of the shapeless anger strangling him. And yet when Gojyo had said it, the usual irritation had been drowned by...not relief, why would he be relieved by such obnoxiousness? But for an instant he understood exactly why Gojyo had laughed.

Bad enough that the damn kappa had finally lost it; did he really have to be dragging Sanzo down after him?

Almost back to the others, Sanzo paused outside the circle of the fire's glow. Goku and Hakkai were speaking, in low tones that barely carried to him. Hard to say what was more surprising, Goku's voice, which was even and serious and adult; or that Hakkai was answering him, that Gonou, who couldn't even look them in the eye, was responding so openly. Sanzo had always been able to talk to Hakkai--or rather, Hakkai had always been able to talk with him, talk with any of them, with that polite and complete understanding. Hakkai said aloud what Sanzo often thought was better unspoken...but the silences of the last week had ached, and Gonou's quiet irritated like fingernails on slate.

But Goku was filling it now. "I know a little, what it's like. We're saying that you should be Hakkai, and you don't know who he is, you don't even know if you'd like him. You're wondering if you could be him, really, and you're wondering if you would want to be, even if you could."

"You sound like you've asked these questions before, Goku-kun."

"I have." His voice was so low Sanzo had to strain to hear him over the crackling fire. "I have this, but..." and one hand rose, to tap the gold glittering through his hair. "Without it, I'm someone else. I don't remember what it's like, when it happens. But I'm strong then, I'm much stronger. And I do things I wouldn't do."

"How do you know you're real?" Gonou spoke just as quietly and just as intensely. "If you don't remember--how do you know you're not just the delusion, and who you become is your true self, the person you should be?"

Under his breath, Sanzo swore, but before he could emerge from the darkness the ape was already answering. "Because this is the Son Goku that Sanzo wants me to be. And Gojyo hates that other Son Goku. And you--Hakkai tells me I can still be strong when I'm this self. Myself. So no matter how powerful that other me is--this is the one that matters. This is the one they want to see."

"But when I look into your eyes, Goku-kun," Gonou said, so faintly he might hardly be speaking at all, "I see you looking at someone else..."

"What's that?" Goku suddenly sprang to his feet, scanning the surrounding trees.

Sanzo sighed and stepped forward. "It's me, bakazaru."

But Goku shook his head, not even sparing him a glance. "No, Sanzo, I knew you were there. For a second I heard..." He cocked his ear to the forest, listened. "There was someone near, I swear. Not you or Gojyo."

Sanzo's gun was ready in his hand, even with no target. Goku wouldn't call a false alarm. He probably had heard Sanzo's approach long before Sanzo had overheard them. Couldn't underestimate an animal's senses.

Couldn't underestimate Goku. He perceived more than even he realized.

Gonou's head was down again, unwilling to meet his gaze. Even if Sanzo wasn't Gojyo, staring at him with all that dark accusation. It was difficult, to look and not see Hakkai, not see a man he had known for three years, and the weight of that familiarity was too heavy for Gonou to bear.

The fire crackled and popped, the clean scent of the wood smoke lost among his cigarette's tobacco. Sanzo considered saying something to Gonou, see if he could goad those eyes into meeting his. But that would be a pointless cruelty.

Better to watch the fire instead, but his gaze kept drifting to Goku, who was sitting with his knees drawn up, chin resting on them as he stared into the night, eyes wide enough that Sanzo could see the whole of the flames reflected in the black of his pupils. His mouth was set in a straight line, too grim, too old.

"Don't be so quick to give up, bakazaru," Sanzo muttered. "You'll get your chance at them."

"Eh, Sanzo?"

"We'll find the bastards sooner or later, and you'll fight them."

"I know." Goku ducked his head. "That--that isn't..." His golden gaze slid to Hakkai, slipped off again. "I want to," he said. "I really want to fight them. To know why...why they did this." Pitch black, the shadows on his face where the firelight didn't fall. "Sanzo?"

"Hn?"

"Is Gojyo going to be okay?"

Sanzo glanced over, but Hakkai didn't move a muscle. Might as well be asleep or unconscious. "He knows better than to fail at this. He'll do what he needs to."

"I know he will...just..."

Was he supposed to be Hakkai, reassuring as far as he could believe possible? But the look in Goku's eyes was too much like the damn kappa's, and in the ape he recognized it. Once before he had stretched out his hand to it, without even knowing why, and the chains had fallen away. To see it now, so far from the prison on that lonely mountaintop...

Damn Hakkai. Damn all of them, and himself, too, for not walking back down that mountain alone, for speaking to a gambler and a murderer when he could have as easily completed his duty in silence. Damn this whole mission, that it could not be done alone, that he had become so accustomed to that truth that he no longer questioned it.

Damn Gonou, for this betrayal that Hakkai never could have managed.

"Gonou..."

It was a ghostly voice, so faint Sanzo first thought he imagined it. But Hakkai sat bolt upright, his eyes wide. "Kanan?" he breathed.

"Gonou, come here..." whispered the wind through the trees, and Hakkai stood as if drawn up on a string, his face blank.

"What the hell?" Sanzo snapped, grabbing his wrist to pull him down again as he drew his gun. "Goku, what do you--"

"Gonou, come," commanded the whisper. Hakkai snapped down his arm to yank free of Sanzo's grasp, and with the same deliberate, mechanical precision began to stride toward the direction of the call.

"Hakkai--Gonou, dammit, it's a trick! Goku--"

"Goku!" The cry came from the opposite direction of the whisper, urgent and commanding, but it was not a voice he knew. Except Goku, already on his feet, jerked around, his eyes wide, as the stranger shouted, "Come here, bakazaru!"

"Sanzo..?" Goku murmured, and took a faltering step toward the call.

"The hell?" Sanzo stared. Maybe the inflection was right, a decent mimic, but it was not his voice, especially since he was standing right here. "Bakazaru, what in the world are you--"

"Goku, come here now!"

"Come here, Gonou."

Hakkai dashed into the underbrush. Goku looked as if he were about to bolt, but Sanzo shouted, "Stupid ape, where do you think you're going? Goku!"

Goku turned. "...Sanzo?" He blinked at Sanzo, fuzzily, as if he were having trouble focusing. Sanzo's own eyes were tearing up with the smoke from the fire, and he was unaccountably lightheaded, as if he had stood too abruptly--

Goku's eyes were huge in the shadows, the pupils so dilated only a narrow rim of gold bordered the black, and the confusion in his expression was not his normal foolishness. And the fire's smoke curled around them like a poisonous snake. Damn it all--"Goku," Sanzo commanded, "get away from the fire--"

"So clever," whispered a voice, practically in his ear, the same muted alto which had called for Gonou.

Sanzo swung around, gun raised. No one there, but in the darkness he thought he saw movement--gleam of scarlet, had the damn kappa finally arrived? But her voice was murmuring, "You can feel the poison in you, in your blood, killing you, one cell at a time...your wound stings, Genjo Sanzo, the claws were laced with a scorpion's venom..."

It burned, impossibly--long healed, but it burned, fever ravaging his body, the pain such that he couldn't draw a breath. He dropped the gun as he fell, coughed and tasted blood, coppery on his tongue, and bitter with that deadly poison.

"Sanzo!" he heard a shout that might have been Goku, but then, or here in the forest, he couldn't tell. He clawed at the ground, earth under his fingers, or hard stone floor, and the desert air was hot and dry. The youkai was laughing and he groped blindly for his gun, silence that laughter, before she could--the idiots, all shouting his name like it would do any good, when he couldn't so much as tell if he were speaking or moving, since all his nerves would feel was agony--but he had to move, else--

"Sanzo! _Sanzo_! Goddammit, Sanzo, snap the hell out of it! You're not hurt!"

Which was patently the stupidest thing he had ever heard; hadn't the idiot seen the damn youkai's claws? So many lethal scorpions in the desert...

But they had been in a forest, and that wound was long-healed, and that wasn't Goku's voice--why the hell wasn't Goku's frantic shrieking of his name boring through his skull the way it always did? If the damn ape had gone and taken off the limiter...No, that fucking bastard had been calling for Goku like he expected the ape to obey, and why the hell--

"Sanzo!"

Rough hands on his shoulders, shaking him. And there was no way in hell the scorpion bastard could be here. Sanzo forced open his eyes, for a moment saw sand and stone and bright yellow sun. Then a silhouette blocked that mirage, crimson hair and eyes dark in the flickering firelight. "Sanzo? Shit, don't _do_ that--"

Sanzo surged up, shoving Gojyo aside to grab the pot of stream water and emptied it over the fire, stamped on the embers until the half-youkai grabbed his arm and hauled him back. He reeled, almost fell, but Gojyo caught him. "Sanzo, the hell are you--"

"The fire." Blood in his mouth, and a faint, sickly sweet aftertaste, not the remembered poison. He spat. "Damn innkeeper--powder in the fire, the son said. Easier than getting it into our food tonight."

"Sanzo?"

"Where's Goku? Hakkai?"

"I didn't see where they went--"

"Did you hear anything? What did you see?" He would have pushed Gojyo away, but the half-youkai's grip on his arm was like a vise, and he wasn't quite sure if he were managing to be upright even with that assistance.

"I saw Hakkai get up and thought it was like you said he was going to do, take a walk to draw them out, until I heard you yell. I'd have gone after him, but then I saw you go down. By the time I got here Goku was gone and you were looking like you were dying, without any damn injury to show for it." Red eyes shifted to the ashes of the fire. "Some kind of poison?"

"Drug. So we'd see what they want us to see, hear what they wanted us to hear." A hallucinogen, or else a hypnotic aide, that they would fall under the spell of suggestion. And they were known, too well, if their memories could so simply be hijacked for these games. Either they had been observed and researched, or...

"Sanzo, we got to find them. You track Goku? I'll go after Hakkai--looks like Hakuryuu has already."

Sanzo looked, saw the jeep was indeed gone. "Damn it." Gojyo's grip finally loosened and he pulled away, crouched to collect his gun and concentrated every ounce of willpower to stand again. He was as dizzy as if he had polished off a liquor cabinet, and the mostly invisible scars on his chest and back were tingling with phantom pain, but it was all in his head anyway and damned if he was going to let mental infirmity slow him down. He had given in too much as it were. "We go together," he grated.

"What the--what do you suggest, we just flip a coin? Who do we look for? Let them take Hakkai, or just kill Goku--"

"They're trying to split us up--it'll just play into their hands. If they wanted us dead we all would be already. They're after something else." He just hoped like hell it wasn't their sanity. No way these bastards could have won already.

No fucking way they would get any victory. He'd tasted losing all this week, and while it was a flavor with which he was far too familiar, he had long ago vowed never to swallow it again. Better to choke than stomach that. "We'll--"

It hit harder than the slash of those poisoned claws, but this was no confused recollection, no illusion, for all he could scarcely tell if it were aloud or only in his mind. Not that it mattered, not that anything mattered but the utter desperation in that scream. He was running before he realized it, shadowed tree branches tearing at his robes, and Gojyo was stumbling behind him, cursing--him, the bakazaru, the forest, their enemy, Sanzo didn't know, hardly could hear him, over the cry still resounding through him.

Goku's cry.

"_SANZO_!"


	14. Assault: Gold

Sanzo. Sanzo needed him. Sanzo was calling for him.

Usually Goku could see in the dark as well as a cat, but this night was blinding him. He didn't see the low tree branch and it flayed his cheek, blood trickling down, but he didn't stop running. Couldn't. Sanzo was somewhere in this forest, shouting for him. "Sanzo?"

The shadows were opaque, and he could hear nothing over the pounding of his heart. Goku shook his head, trying to clear it. Sanzo's shout had been right in front of him, or was it to the left...or behind him? Sanzo in the forest, but he also had been beside the fire, the smoke so thick it blackened the pure violet of his eyes.

Sanzo rarely called for him like that; if he did it was because it was important, because he truly needed Goku, and Goku would rather never eat again than not respond. But why had Sanzo been in the forest? Hakkai was by the fire, and they both were watching Hakkai--but Hakkai had risen, had begun to walk into the forest--

"This way, bakazaru."

Goku spun around, spotted the dim outline of a figure through the trees. "Sanzo?" Who else could it be, and sounded like him, but...

"Follow me," and the man strode away.

"Wait! Sanzo?" Goku jogged after him, but the figure's long strides kept him a fair distance ahead.

Then he passed under a gap in the forest canopy, and the moonlight shone down on hair red as fire. Goku blinked. "Gojyo?"

"Who else?"

"But then, where's Sanzo...where's Hakkai?" He squinted, still too dark to see him clearly, but that was Gojyo's voice, wasn't it, who else could it be, with that crimson hair?

"Just come quickly."

Gojyo was all in black, only his face visible, looking like a ghost floating in the forest. Only wasn't Gojyo's hair longer...

"Wait," Goku said, stopping in place. "There's something wrong." He shut his eyes, couldn't see enough anyway. Instead he listened to the forest, the chirping insects and the rustle of leaves, inhaled in a deep breath of air, sharp with pine tar and a whiff of wood smoke. No cigarettes, except the residue smoked into his own clothes.

He couldn't hear Sanzo, but there was another voice, a voice he didn't know, a woman's alto. Hushed, so he could hardly hear it. "It's his fault, he did it, he took me from you..."

There was a strangled groan, a low, painful sound that made his hair stand on end, all the more because he recognized the voice which produced it. "Hakkai?" Goku gasped.

"He's coming," Gojyo said.

"But, Gojyo--" He could hear the footsteps, no louder than a panther's.

"And here he is."

He burst through the bushes in a rustle of leaves, and Goku's eyes snapped open in time to see the silver flash of his knife in the moonlight. "Hakkai!" he shouted, jumping back. "What are you doing?"

Hakkai's eyes were blank again, not even Gonou's confused pain, just fathomless dark pits which didn't see him at all. He moved like a bat, blind and unerring, and Goku only barely dodged his slashing attack. And Gojyo was just standing there between the trees. "Gojyo? Why are you--"

"Because I'm here to watch you die, bakazaru."

The man didn't move, but it was like he had suddenly stepped out of shadows, so Goku finally saw him clearly. Red hair, but short, not even falling to his shoulders, and though the red eyes were the same, the face was wrong, smooth cheek, no scars. Not Gojyo. Not Gojyo's words, not his voice, and how had he ever thought--

But then here was Hakkai, attacking as if he didn't know him, and maybe he was seeing something different, too, not Goku at all. "Hakkai, it's me! Gonou! It's Goku!"

He ducked the sweeping blade, dashed past Hakkai and hurtled himself at the man who wasn't Gojyo, but the guy was fast. He leapt out of the way, throwing up his hand as he did, and Goku saw a faint wisp of something like fog swirling around him.

A sick sweetness tickled the back of his throat, and Goku clapped his hand over his nose and mouth, falling back. His head spun from the little of the drug he had breathed in, but that was forgotten as he lunged out of the path of Hakkai's strike. If Hakkai even noticed the other man he didn't care, completely focused on Goku. Because they had told him to be, like the guy had told Goku he was Gojyo, and for no reason Goku had believed him, until at last he couldn't.

They had told Hakkai he was the enemy, that Goku was the one who had hurt him. And of course he wouldn't listen to Goku telling him otherwise; enemies lied.

It went against every instinct Goku had; fighting his own body was harder even than battling Hakkai. Every part of him screamed it was dangerous, too much of a risk, and the loudest was Sanzo's voice in his head--unless it was Gojyo's--roaring, "_Bakazaru_!" But he was only a dumb ape, after all, and he couldn't think of another way. This was Hakkai, and he thought he knew Hakkai. And an enemy would never do this.

Goku knelt on the ground, put his arms behind his back and clasped his wrists, raised his head and said, "If you want, you can kill me, Gonou."

Hakkai was over him, raising the knife. Goku stared up at him, every muscle aching with the effort of holding himself still. Nothing in Gonou's face, not anger, not pain, not grief. No smile needed to camouflage what wasn't there at all, and Goku wondered if this were easier for Hakkai, if maybe he liked it better, not having to force his mouth into that curve.

The knife came down, and Goku tensed, braced for the pain--if it missed his heart he might still--

And then the blade was dropping from Hakkai's lax fingers. "Goku-kun?" he asked, faintly.

"That's unfortunate," said a voice which was neither Gojyo's nor Sanzo's, and the red-haired man's long arms locked around Hakkai's throat, forcing him back in a strangling chokehold. "It would be best if you did it," he murmured into Hakkai's ear, "but if you really won't, Gonou-kun..."

Hakkai was fighting, but he couldn't break the hold, and the man was obviously strong, dragging him back into the forest's darkness.

"You let him go," Goku growled, springing to his feet as he summoned Nyoibou. "Whatever you're doing, I won't let you get away with it!" The man's hands were occupied with restraining Hakkai, but Goku still watched him closely, ready should he try to attack again with his powder.

So he saw when the man's crimson eyes--their long lashes really were just like Gojyo's--shifted to the side, then back again, but not quickly enough that Goku missed the soft footfall on the forest floor. He spun around, staff ready.

"It's just Sanzo, bakazaru," but that wasn't Gojyo's voice, but this red stranger's. Goku shut his eyes, gave his head a sharp shake. If he could rattle out whatever they were trying to put in...he looked, and saw a slender figure all in black, the hair tightly tied back, gleaming dark as heart's blood.

"Like hell that's Sanzo!" he snapped, and drew back Nyoibou to strike.

Her alto was no louder than the wind in the leaves. "How can you tell, in the darkness? There's no moon here, no sun, just stone walls."

"Shut up--"

"And those chains are too heavy for you to lift that staff."

He tried to hold on, but Nyoibou fell from his hands. He couldn't move, as if he were bound in place--bound in the cavern, and he could feel the stone at his back. "No--no, I'm not--"

"They've returned you to the prison where you belong, Son Goku. They've left you here in darkness." And it was dark, so dark he could barely see anything, just the outline of her motion as she crouched, only a few feet before him, if he could but move. "You're alone in the mountains, where no one can hear you."

"Sanzo--"

"He brought you back here." Something gleamed in her hands, the silver blade which Hakkai had dropped. "He forced those chains around your wrists again. You're too weak. Useless. Look at how he frowns at you."

He almost thought he heard a voice he knew, from far away, shouting, "Goku-kun! Go--" and then it stopped. And Sanzo was staring down at him, violet eyes hard, lip curled in disgust.

"He never should have let you go. Until the end of time, you'll be here for your crime," and he could barely hear her over the howl of the wind, could barely see her through the bars, solid rock sealed with magic, stronger than all the will in him. Could barely see Sanzo, eclipsed by the mountain's shadow, just a silhouette turning his back on him. "Now, watch him walk away."

"_SANZO_!" Goku screamed, but Sanzo didn't look back, and then the blackness took him.


	15. Confront: Red

Gojyo hadn't heard a damn thing. But when Sanzo got that expression, you don't ask questions, you just get the hell out of the way. And then go after him, because there was only one thing that could shake the monk down to the core like that. Afterwards he would find some lame-ass justification for it, but in the immediacy of the moment Sanzo acted on instincts so integral to his self that he couldn't deny them.

_Dammit, Goku, if you went and got yourself killed, I'm gonna fucking murder you..._

For a split second he thought they had been too late, and the world almost whited out. Goku was curled into a ball, unmoving on the forest floor, and the figure standing over him had a knife--all in black, but it wasn't Hakkai. He knew the red of that hair--he saw it every day, hanging over his eyes.

Gojyo froze, staring at his sinister reflection. The head raised, angled eyes met his, and even that far away and in darkness he could see their crimson.

Across the clearing he only just glimpsed a dark shape, a figure in black huddled on the ground, and though he was deep in shadow Gojyo thought his hair was brown. And from other shadows, invisible, came a voice, a soft alto murmuring, "You can't do anything, you have no bullets and your blood is pouring from your stomach..."

"N-no!" Sanzo was on his knees, back curled, fists pounded against the dirt. "Goddamn lying bitch--" He hadn't dropped the gun, but Gojyo could see him shaking from here, too hard to aim accurately.

The red-eyed man was bending over Goku's still body, knife in hand as he buried his fist in the tangled brown hair and yanked back his head to bare his throat.

"No! Goku!" Gojyo shouted, but the damn ape didn't twitch. He charged forward, calling forth the shakujou, for all that it was useless, knowing that there wasn't enough time, that he was too far away.

"_GOKU!_" and that sounded like it was ripped from Sanzo's soul.

Light flared, a starburst making night into day. Materialized energy concentrated to the force of a cannon ball slammed into the red-haired stranger and sent him flying into a tree trunk, with a crack that shook the branches. He tumbled to the base, a limp, broken doll; and then the light was gone.

Blinded in the wake of that flash, Gojyo blinked, rubbed his eyes until he could make out that other figure in black, swaying like a sapling in a storm, but upright, his hands out before him, not yet lowered from releasing that blow.

But Gonou knew no ki attacks.

"How's Goku?" In the silence Hakkai's voice carried across the clearing, tight and pure. "Is Goku all right?"

Sanzo was there--Gojyo hadn't seen him move, didn't know how the monk had managed to stand, if he even had, but he had Goku in his arms, was shaking him, alternating growling his name and 'bakazaru' with such focused anger that Gojyo couldn't tell if he heard them at all.

By the time Gojyo reached them Hakkai had made it over as well, was kneeling beside them. "Sanzo, let me see."

"There isn't any blood," Sanzo said, and the tremor in his voice might have been rage.

"They didn't--didn't think they hurt him." Hakkai's chest was heaving as if he had run a marathon. "Not in body...I could heal a cut, but they told him--what were they doing? How did they... What did I--"

"Hakkai!"

And Hakkai's head tilted up to him, answering the name. Sanzo's own head jerked up at that, and Gojyo saw everything Hakkai had said suddenly register in the monk's sharp stare. This was Hakkai, looking up at him; none of the pain and grief and horror in his face was Gonou's. "I--I couldn't--I couldn't allow them to--he would have killed Goku--"

He slumped, and Gojyo crouched to support him. "Hakkai?"

Anytime before, Hakkai would have said he was fine, would deny there being a problem regardless if he were covered in blood and too weak to stand. But Hakkai's head now was heavy against his shoulder, and he was shuddering with words Gojyo didn't want to hear. "I did--how could I--I was him--I was that again--"

His hand wrapped around Gojyo's wrist, squeezing until the bones ground together, and Gojyo had to suppress a wince as he met those staring eyes. "I tried--all of you--I tried to--"

"It's okay, Hakkai, it's okay, it wasn't you, it wasn't you."

"But it was," Hakkai replied, and for that instant he sounded precisely like himself. Then he collapsed like a paper doll, folding in on himself. Gojyo took his shoulder, shook him and got no response.

Hakkai's head was pillowed on his knees, as limp and lifeless as Goku, still in Sanzo's arms. For a fleeting moment Gojyo wished he could join them in unconsciousness, escape everything. His heart was pounding fit to break his ribs. But the monk would probably shoot him if he dared try to faint.

Sanzo reached over Goku, pressed his fingers to Hakkai's throat. "His pulse is steady."

"Yeah...Goku's?"

"Hakkai was right. There's no physical wound on him."

"Damn bakazaru--wake up, already!" Gojyo prodded him, not gently. "Come on, Goku--dinnertime! Food's on! You don't hurry, I'll eat it all..." But the gold eyes remained shut, the tousled head lolling back against Sanzo's chest. The monk wasn't even looking at him.

Gojyo released a long breath, whistling through his teeth. Cigarettes in his pocket, but he didn't have the strength to get them out. "You got your gun?"

The glare of those violet eyes should have dropped him surely as a bullet, but he was far beyond caring. Sanzo shifted to cradle Goku in one arm, cocking the revolver as he drew it.

Gojyo nodded. "Good. The other one might be coming back." He looked through the night at the dim shadow of the man crumpled at the tree's roots. Probably should go check if he had survived Hakkai's attack.

Sanzo must have had the same thought, because he began laying Goku down on the ground. Gojyo caught his shoulder to stop him. "No, you just hold him--talk to him. Whenever he's gone berserk, you can get through to him--whatever they did to him, he needs to know you're here."

"Why would the bakazaru--"

"Shut up! Just stop it, okay?" Gojyo snapped. "Dammit, Sanzo, you think any of us ever bought that crap? I'm the only one who can hear it now and I know it's bullshit, it doesn't matter. Not here. I don't care about your Buddhist shit, all your philosophy. I want Goku back, I want him to be all right almost as much as you want him to be all right. He means as much to me as you do, and Hakkai--we're not gonna lose them, Sanzo, and what do you think I'm gonna do if you keep holding that damn ape, you think I'm gonna laugh at you? You think I'll make fun of you for actually feeling something under that ice and steel?

"It doesn't matter anymore. I don't care. I've had enough of picking up pieces and trying to put them back together with so much missing. I just want everything whole again, I just want things back like they were."

"Stupid kappa." With his head down he couldn't see the monk's expression, but there was an edge to Sanzo's voice he didn't recognize. "Once something's broken, you'll never have it back. Not like it was. There's always cracks."

But he had lifted Goku into his arms again, and through the red over his eyes Gojyo saw one of his hands tentatively, almost nervously, stroke back the brown hair before settling on his head, above the gold diadem. "Damn ape. Wake up, before you miss your Gojyo-niisan making a fool of himself."

No wonder he hadn't recognized that voice. When he looked Sanzo was smiling, the corners of his lips just barely turned up, warping his tone into something entirely different from his words.

Gojyo felt his own mouth quirk in response. "Heh--don't you think he gets to see that enough as it is? Come on, Hakkai, snap out of it. You'll have material to rag on our Sanzo-sama for years..."

Hakkai's still face looked so peaceful it almost seemed a shame to disturb it. Gojyo gazed on that empty serenity, then tilted his head back. Through the leaves he could make out the white twinkle of a star here and there. "You think we've all just lost our minds?"

Sanzo's sigh was so breathy it could be mistaken for a chuckle. "Quite probably."

"Of course you're probably still under the influence of whatever the hell drug they used. Me..."

"Whatever mindgames they're playing screwed us all up," Sanzo said. "It can't be coincidence that we remembered what we did about Hakkai's 'death'. The memories we got were those that would hit hardest--what we'd be least likely to question, least likely to think about at all. Probably so we'd be less likely to notice inconsistencies, once the drug's effects wore off. But subconsciously we knew it wasn't real, and that's what's fucked us up so badly. Trying to make sense of nonsense."

"Yeah. That's probably it." Everything, all that pain, the ache of that undeniable bereavement and at the same time that stabbing doubt, all what they intended, expected. Right into the bastards' hands, dancing to the song they wrote like marionettes. And their music was still playing.

He'd rather just be deaf. He'd rather have no strings that could be pulled. But that hadn't been an option since he had agreed to go on this damn mission. Or maybe three years before that. Or maybe before he was even born to this life.

Carefully he slid Hakkai's head off his knees, laid him on the ground close enough that one limp hand fell across Sanzo's robes. Rising, he made his way over to the man under the tree. Behind him he could only just hear Sanzo, hardly more than whispering, scolding his monkey, or beseeching him, couldn't tell from his tone and he doubted even Sanzo knew.

The guy was still breathing, though a little blood trickled from the back of his head, almost indistinguishable against the crimson hair. No way that was a dye job. Gojyo approached him cautiously, kicked him in the ribs when he didn't move. "He's alive but out cold," he called back to Sanzo.

"Good." The monk's voice was subzero, his head angled down, gaze fixed on Goku's still face. "Come back here."

Gojyo did, then was off-balanced when Sanzo stood and dropped Goku into his arms like a sack of grain. "Eh--"

"As you said. It'd be better if he knows someone's here. He's probably missing your squabbles."

Goku weighed more than he looked but less than one might guess, watching him eat. He didn't feel like someone sleeping; his muscles were too stiff for that, set like he were braced for battle, or hurting. Locked in a nightmare he wouldn't wake from. "Sanzo--"

But the monk had strode to the man under the tree, taken him by the collar and hauled him up. At first Gojyo thought he was trying to wake him, was about to voice his opinion of the uselessness of that attempt.

Then he saw the gun.

He didn't know what got to him more--the part of him that squirmed and wanted to protest--the bastard's unconscious, look at the scarlet of his hair, cold-blooded murder isn't their style--or the part of him that tensed in eager anticipation of the gunshot.

The muzzle of Sanzo's revolver was pressed to the unconscious man's temple, his finger on the trigger. But instead of firing, the monk opened his mouth, and shouted into the darkness, "We know you're there--show yourself, now, you bastard, or I'll blow your brother's head off!"


	16. Confront: Violet

Sanzo's head was throbbing, and the midnight shadows around them seemed to be pulsing with a living darkness, but his hand holding the gun was steady. He would not allow it to be otherwise. A minute passed in frozen silence, even that darkness holding its breath, providing no answers.

"You have fifteen seconds," Sanzo told it, and cocked the gun. That ominous click carried through the night, echoing among the trees. He knew it was heard. The bastards had been watching them too closely; they wouldn't have stopped now. "Eleven. Ten. Nine. Eight."

Gojyo knelt, Goku in his arms and Hakkai laid before him, but the half-youkai said nothing, even though his eyes were fixed on the man under Sanzo's gun, on that unmistakable red hair. "Seven. Six. Five."

_Show yourself, bastard. I'll do it. Don't underestimate me._ "Four. Three." Sanzo narrowed his eyes, until all he could see was the gun, and the pale eggshell of the man's skull, strung with crimson strands. The bullet would dye that red with new color. "Two--"

"Stop."

Sanzo tilted up his head, saw Gojyo spin around, hunching protectively over the burden in his arms as he crouched between Hakkai and that voice. Her footsteps fell soundlessly as she emerged from the shadows into the clearing, her hands raised before her, empty. The moonlight glinted red in the hair smoothly pulled back from her face.

"Please," she said. "Don't kill him."

Sanzo looked at her. Then, deliberately, he let go of the man's collar so he slumped to the forest floor, and raised the gun, slipped his finger off the trigger. "Gojyo."

"Yeah--ah!" He scrambled to catch the revolver as Sanzo tossed it to him, shuffled Goku to one arm to snatch the gun from the air and curved his fingers around its grip.

"You weren't drugged," Sanzo told him. "If she begins to say anything to make me see what isn't there, or if she makes a move you don't like, shoot her. Or him. Your choice."

Gojyo extended his arm, pointed the barrel square at her heart. "Got it."

"You're pretty clever," she said, looking at Sanzo, her arms still in the air.

"Hardly," Sanzo snorted. "Or we'd have had you in this position the first night you came for us."

"But what will you do when our companions attack? Do you have enough bullets for all of them? You can hear them, if you listen--they're getting close."

Footsteps in the forest, crack of a twig, voices in the wind--Sanzo shook his head sharply. "Gojyo, what do you hear?"

"Nothing. Just the damn woods at night." His eyes narrowed. "Stop it now, bitch. That's your one warning."

"There's only the two of you," Sanzo said. "Three, when you had Hakkai. And only your brother can fight--you play other games, but we're onto them."

"Damn clever bastard," she hissed.

"Who hired you?" growled Sanzo. "Gyuumaoh's mistress? Has Kougaiji's honor slipped enough for him to take on mercenaries? Or are you the doctor's whores?"

The red woman's face twisted in rage. "We're no servants to demons."

That disgust seemed sincere enough. "So this is your own vengeance?" Sanzo demanded.

"What'd we do to you?" Gojyo asked, and hopefully the bitch wouldn't notice how his voice almost, almost cracked with an entirely unnecessary guilt. They very well might have killed the youkai sire or dam of these halfbloods in their journey, but it wouldn't have been intentional, and they would pay for that sin in due course, along with all their countless others. In the meantime, they had a job to do, and no time to suffer the purposeless justice of a mortal's hate. Even if Gojyo's tone held a need for understanding that was dangerously close to sympathy.

But the woman shook her head. "No vengeance. And we've worked for our living in the past, my brother and I, but this is for our village. For the sake of all those good people who suffered one of their sons to marry a demon, who accepted us, defended us when our own monstrous blood mother thought to drown us for our sin of existing. For them, we do this."

"And why do those _good people_ want us dead?" Sanzo said, viciously ironic, angered by her martyr's tone, and even more by the stricken look on Gojyo's face that Sanzo didn't need to see to know was there.

But the woman, instead of defending their honor, put back her head and laughed, a harsh, unfeminine braying. "Clever," she said, "but oh, what an ego. None of them care about you or your demon retinue, monk. They've never heard of you. We didn't come for you at all--we came for him," and her crimson eyes settled on the dark huddled figure behind Gojyo. "We need Cho Gonou."

Sanzo glanced back now, enough to see Gojyo shift, Goku still in his arms, to block her view of Hakkai as best he could. "Why?" Gojyo demanded, meeting that blood-red glare with his own. "What'd you want with him?"

"You've probably never even heard of Karasuma-oh," she said.

"The Raven Demon King?" Sanzo said, shrugging. "A minor self-styled lord in the northeast mountains. What of it?"

"Not so minor as that," she said. "He bided his time patiently for years, gathering power. Now his forces can be considered as strong as Hyakugan-maoh's once were."

Gojyo jerked, but managed to retain enough composure to keep his voice flat. "Yeah, so? He an old buddy's of Hyakugan-maoh? Did this Karasuma-oh hire you to get Hakkai for revenge?"

Her red eyes flashed. "I told you, we work for no demon. Least of all that black-winged monster. Karasuma-oh's castle is only half a day's walk from our village. Before, that never troubled us; he never paid us any attention, demanded no tithes or sacrifices. Until a year ago. Then, his demons started coming to raid our village. They rob and kill and...worse things." Her hands, lowered to her sides, curled into trembling fists. "We're a small village, isolated; we have no militia, no defense, and no allies to come aid us. My brother and I are the strongest there, but we're not warriors. Just we two, even with the entire village behind us, couldn't so much as breach Karasuma-oh's castle's walls. We had no hope, no way of stopping him ourselves."

Sanzo could feel the rage growing in his chest like a living thing, a parasite heating his blood. "So you decided to find a warrior. Get a champion to fight for you."

"For a long time we searched for a warrior to hire," she said. "A hero brave and strong enough to take on a demon king. But there are none, especially not now, when everyone knows too well how vicious and terrible youkai truly are. Even an army would refuse that fight. But there were rumors--there was one man stronger than an army, strong enough to attack a demon king's castle and defeat them all single-handedly. It took us months to trace the rumors, to go there and find the story was true. That it had been one man alone who had slain Hyakugan-maoh and his force of a thousand, and he had even been strong enough to survive. We knew then that he was who we needed. That Cho Gonou would be our village's salvation.

"It took weeks more for us to track him down, only to learn that he was no longer the man we were seeking. Cho Gonou was dead and buried inside this new man, who had his own mission, and so would never come with us. So we had no choice but to take that new man, and in him, resurrect the old."

"How--" Gojyo began, and Sanzo, who had a good guess, nearly interrupted him; it would do Hakkai little enough good to discuss their methods now. But instead Gojyo asked, "How'd you know he wouldn't come with you? You never even tried to ask him, we never saw you before. How'd you know Hakkai couldn't be the one you wanted?"

"She didn't need to ask him," Sanzo said, having understood that much. There was only one possible explanation for how they could be known so intimately by these strangers. "She or her brother, they saw the truth in his mind. They read his thoughts. As they read ours, to know what nightmare visions to evoke in us."

"'Reading thoughts' is a poor way to put it," the woman said. "It's nothing as clear as words on a page. More like trying to spot fish at the bottom of a muddy pond--flashes, brief glimpses before violent emotion stirs up the silt too much to see anything. After a while you learn to interpret what you notice, after a fashion. My brother and I can only really make out one another with any clarity, and that's because we understood one another long before we learned the speech to explain that understanding. From our waking together in the womb. Everyone else, we only catch those occasional moments. But that's enough for our purposes."

"You don't implant the visions directly," Sanzo said. "You see them in our minds and then use your drugs and hypnotic suggestion to bring those thoughts to the surface. To make us think we're seeing things, or to make us imagine different memories than what really happened."

"Like making us believe we'd all seen our friend die," Gojyo said, his voice low with fury. "Like putting us through the worst hell we could imagine for ourselves."

"The more traumatic the imagined memories," she said, calmly, "the less likely you'd be to think back on them. It's difficult to convince the mind of something the heart would insist is untrue; it's hard to keep hope from interfering, and then you might've realized your friend was alive after all. As you eventually did. The experience had to be as terrible as you could imagine, to keep you from considering it too closely. It was out of necessity, not from any wish to torture you."

"Of course not," Gojyo snarled, "you gave us such lovely visions, and set Gonou on us, because you only wished us well."

"We wished you neither well nor harm," she returned. "You mattered to us only because you mattered to him, too much. We could not drive you from his mind--no matter how many times we cast him back into his old memories, the existence of you three kept rising to interfere, kept reminding him of his present life even as he relived the past. Until we were forced to accept that there'd be no removing you from his heart, but to remove you entirely."

"How many times you cast him back..." Gojyo said, slowly, and Sanzo silently swore. Now was not the time for Gojyo to come to an epiphany about just what had been done to Hakkai. But it was too late; the half-youkai's eyes widened in all too understanding horror. "You made him remember it. Everything that happened to Cho Gonou, her death, the murders--you made him relive it. That's how you were trying to 'resurrect' him."

Carefully, slowly, Gojyo laid Goku's limp body down on the ground, stood with the same methodic deliberation and aimed the revolver, using two hands to keep it rock-steady, directly between the woman's angular scarlet eyes. "How many times, bitch? How many times did you and your bastard brother put Hakkai through that, to break him?"

The red-haired woman looked at him, then down at Hakkai and Goku at his feet, and while her lips didn't smile, there was something in her tone that was almost gloating. "Enough," she answered.

Gojyo's snarled curse was unintelligible. Sanzo saw his finger tighten convulsively on the trigger, and would have moved to stop him--they might yet need the bitch alive, for Goku and Hakkai's sakes--except that his instincts were crying warning of another threat.

Sanzo couldn't have said what it was that alerted him. The unconscious man hadn't twitched, and the woman didn't so much as glance at her brother. Then again, with the kind of telepathic bond she had been talking about, she hardly would have needed to, and maybe it was the way she was so deliberately ignoring the body at Sanzo's feet that was the cue. Or else it was the suppressed triumph in her voice, the feeling that she was winning, for all there was a demon-killing firearm in her face.

Either way, he lunged back just in time, a split second before the red-haired man surged upright. Still a little clumsy from the knock on the head, the man's knife swing went wide, just catching the edge of Sanzo's sleeve and tearing the trim. Then Sanzo wrapped his arm around the taller man's neck and twisted the his arm back, eliciting a pained whimper. Closing his fingers tight over the halfblood's fist so he couldn't drop the knife, Sanzo forced the blade to the man's own throat. The man gasped hoarsely as that point drew blood.

"Han-lu, no!" cried his twin, her crimson eyes wide and her face white, no triumphant smirk now. She made to rush at them, only to be stopped by Gojyo's cough as he gestured with the gun, and Sanzo poking the knife a little deeper into the flesh of her brother's neck.

"Now that you're both awake," Sanzo said, calmly, "you're going to explain exactly what you did to all of us."

"And you're going to undo it," Gojyo said, as calmly.

Brother and sister looked at one another. Sanzo wondered what unheard messages might be exchanged in that glance. There was nothing to be done for it, though, and it wasn't like they could outthink a bullet or a knife. Finally the woman swallowed, said, "We can't fix everything. Anymore than you can undo a bullet wound after you've fired. We evoke the visions, but once someone succumbs to them, once they are lost inside their own minds, they no longer listen to us, anymore than they hear anyone else in the waking world. There's no way to reach them; it's impossible. We aren't magicians."

Sanzo looked at Hakkai lying behind Gojyo; at Goku curled up on the ground at Gojyo's feet. Both of them breathing, but still, paralyzed in nightmares. While Hakkai was by nature a quiet sleeper, Goku slept as energetically and loudly as he did anything else, and to see him so motionless now was in its way more disturbing than seeing a corpse, more unnatural than death.

Unacceptable. They didn't have time for this. They had a mission from the gods to carry out, and after all this trouble he wasn't about to do it alone. "Then I suggest you learn some magic fast," Sanzo said, tightening his grip until the bones of the man's hand ground together and a faint whine escaped his throat, "because if the two of them don't walk out of this forest with us, sound of mind and body, then neither will either of you."


	17. Confront: Gold

It was utterly black, where Goku was, terrifyingly, completely black, a darkness so absolute that whether his eyes were open or closed he couldn't tell. He tried to blink, tried to turn his head, but there was nothing, not the faintest, most distant glimmer to mark where he looked. Nothing at all but the faraway howl of the wind, and the creak and clink of chains. He could feel the heavy cuffs weighing down his wrists when he moved, the scratch of rusty metal against his skin.

Sanzo had put those cuffs on him, had chained him down and then walked away, left him here in the mountain and taken the last light with him. Goku could feel the stone under him, over him, all around him, like the black weight of the sea at the bottom of the ocean, pressure to force the last air from your lungs. He couldn't breathe under it, as if he were drowning in solid rock; there was air in the cave, a cold draft, but it was nothing to the inexorable mass of the mountain. Worse even than he remembered it (and he tried not to, oh how he tried never to remember that prison, even in dreams), the darkness all the deeper for being able to recall light.

For a while Goku thought that maybe his eyes needed to adjust, that after so long outside in the sun he wasn't used to the old darkness. But he waited and waited and still he could see nothing, not the least little shimmer, not even an imaginary flicker in the corner of his eyes. He thought that maybe he might be blind, that maybe he didn't have eyes at all anymore, but they were round and active under his eyelids when he put his fingers to them. When he pressed against the lids, there were flashes of dark reds and greens, but that was the only thing to see.

It had never been this dark; even when storms hid the stars, a faint glow would still shine on the stone and snow on the mountains outside. But when Goku crawled forward now, one hand against the rough stone wall and the chains dragging behind him, he reached no bars, just rock and more rock, all around him. No breaks or openings under his fingers, just stone as relentlessly unending as the darkness.

He might have cried out then, but that would just make it worse, to hear only his own pathetic voice echoed back to him. There would be no other answer. He was in the mountains, where no one came. In all those long years he tried to forget, only Sanzo had ever come.

But Sanzo would never come here again. Sanzo had left him here, had returned him to this prison, and the worse part was that Goku couldn't remember why, anymore than he remembered the crime that had originally gotten him banished to the mountain. What he might have done to make Sanzo so angry, to make Sanzo hate him.

The woods, and he had been running, running towards Sanzo, calling for him. He had known something was wrong, hadn't known what. And then--he couldn't remember, even when he tried, pushing the heels of his palms against his eyes to stare into the flashing void behind his eyelids, trying to squeeze the memory from his brain.

He didn't remember, but it didn't matter. How could anything matter now, except that Sanzo hated him, that Sanzo had left him here where he would never see the sun again.

Goku knew he wasn't crying aloud, because the only sound was the distant wind. Even though his throat was thick, and his cheeks might have been damp, though he couldn't tell when he put his hands to them, couldn't feel any warmth. Couldn't feel anything, as numb as solid rock; nothing but the cold of the wind through the stone walls.

The tormenting shriek of the wind through the mountain peaks and passes had long been the only voice to talk to him. Even that howl was far from him now, muffled by the weight of the rock, but it seemed to Goku, as he listened, that there was a voice on the wind, different than the wordless roar of a storm. A voice that spoke to him from a distance almost too great to hear--a voice that knew his name, and called him by it.

The wind's voice was a stranger's, even calling his name, and he turned his head away from it, covered his ears. He couldn't quite understand what it was telling him, didn't want to know. Putting his shoulder to the wall, he tried to walk from it, pushing deeper into the dark still weight of the mountain, the chains clanking.

But the wind's voice followed him, ever fainter. _"Listen,"_ he almost could hear it say, _"You must hear this,"_ and Goku felt a twinge of anger, to be so ordered. _"Come here. Come back, and listen,"_ the voice commanded, but there was only one voice he would ever obey without question, and it was not this strange wind. He kept going, leaving the howling behind until it was only an unintelligible whisper. Not enough to bother him; the quiet of the stone was peaceful, as perfectly still and calm and deep as a grave. Goku might have cried then.

_"Goku!"_

He might have cried, but that was not his voice echoing through the cavern; a different voice, even fainter and farther away than the wind, but one he knew as well as his own. Better. He surged to his feet without realizing it, cried, "Sanzo?" before he knew what he was doing.

The stone walls bounced his call back to him, mocking echoes to deafen him after the silence. He held his breath, listened, but heard nothing, even after the last echo died away. Not even the wind now, and in the darkness he had no idea where to go to follow it, turned a blind and helpless circle on the cold stone under his feet.

Hopeless; and then the call came again, still more distant, but he heard it clear as a ringing bell. Would hear it no matter how deep he was buried. _"Goku, come back,"_ and he would always hear it, and once heard he would obey. Though this was no command like the wind's, no confident order; but almost a question, spoken as tentatively uncertain as a wish.

"Sanzo, what's wrong?" Goku asked the darkness, desperately, because the voice was Sanzo's but that shaken, doubtful hesitation in it was more terrifying than the darkest hole under the mountain. "Where are you?" Sanzo had left him here, but Sanzo might need him now, and if he did then Goku would tear apart the mountain with his bare hands to reach him, if he had to.

But no answer came, to Goku's despair; he screamed Sanzo's name, and again, but there was nothing.

Except for the voice on the wind, a muted whisper almost beyond what he could hear, and it was no longer calling his name. Instead it said, _"Again. You must call for him again--he hears you, barely. Keep trying. Call him to you."_

And Sanzo spoke again, _"Come here this instant, Goku,"_ firmer than before, though still doubtful, lacking somehow the authoritative force that was as much the right of a Sanzo as the sacred scroll he carried.

"Sanzo, what's wrong?" Goku asked again, moving through the darkness towards where he thought he heard Sanzo's voice.

_"He hears you,"_ whispered the wind. _"He recognizes you."_

_"Then why isn't he answering me?"_ Sanzo demanded, and now the force was there, and more; Sanzo was enraged, coldly and calmly furious.

As angry perhaps as when he had put Goku here, and Goku stopped in the darkness. Sanzo had left him here; why would Sanzo want him to come now? Was Sanzo still angry with him? So angry, maybe, that even the mountain was not enough, and he deserved still worse punishment.

_"He answers in his head,"_ the wind said. _"He can't speak aloud; his mind is in another place now than his body. But he can hear you. Reassure him; tell him that you aren't angry with him."_

_"Angry with him?"_ Sanzo asked, and then paused. His voice was fading, as if he were moving further away. When he spoke again, his tenor was lower still, only understandable because the words were so short and sharply pronounced. _"What did you do to him."_

_"It doesn't matter now."_

_"What did you make him see?"_ and Sanzo was in a place beyond rage now, more furious than Goku had ever heard him, his soft voice barely, barely shaking with a cold so great it could burn, could destroy like frostbite. _"What did he see me do to him?"_

If Sanzo said more, Goku couldn't hear it; his voice went entirely away, leaving only silence. His anger recalled, perhaps, and he would leave Goku here after all.

_"You're losing him,"_ hissed the wind.

And then, like a storm passing, like a frost breaking, the anger was gone, and Sanzo was saying, louder and closer again, _"Goku, it's all right now. Come back here. I'm not angry with you."_ Not angry, but not calm, either, taut and stressed almost to the breaking point. _"Please come back."_

Sanzo needed him, Goku could tell, whether or not Sanzo said it; Sanzo was in trouble and he needed to come, whatever Sanzo might have done to him before. Goku started to run through the darkness, his feet pounding on the rock, towards Sanzo's voice. "I'm coming," he called, even if Sanzo couldn't hear, "Sanzo, I'm coming."

He couldn't tell how long he ran, or how far; the rock under his feet stayed rough and hard, and the darkness didn't break. But Sanzo was still calling for him, _"Goku, come here,"_ with the ringing cadence of a chant, closer now.

And the wind was still whispering (closer, too, a hiss in his ear, a draft through the cavern), telling him, _"Listen, and come. Listen, you must listen...listen to him, and to me; you will listen to me, and obey, when the word is spoken..."_ He didn't want to listen to that voice, not when Sanzo needed him, but no matter how fast he ran he couldn't escape from it. And he needed it, because the voice was also speaking to Sanzo, instructing, _"Keep calling, he's almost here..."_

_"If you're lying to me,"_ Sanzo began. His anger was icier than before. Goku heard the metallic slide of the hammer as Sanzo cocked his gun. _"If you're making up false hope to save your pathetic skin..."_

Sanzo might shoot him, but it didn't matter; he was almost, almost there, and the flash of the shot at least would give him an instant of bright in this darkness, one last glimpse of sunlight. "Sanzo!" Goku cried, stretching out his hand.

And Sanzo must have heard him this time. "Goku!" he called back, not muffled by stone but close, so close he might be right in front of him. And strangely not angry. Then a hand caught Goku's own outstretched one, grasped tight through the darkness. Sanzo's hand, and Sanzo's voice over him, grumbling, "About time," though there was a weird catch as he said it, like something was stuck in his throat.

Goku was lying on his back, though for some reason it didn't feel like stone under him, but earth, and the scent was not the dank heavy closeness of the cave's air, but leaves and a rain-laden breeze. It was still as blindly dark as ever, though. In that darkness, to his left, he heard Gojyo ask, "He's awake?"

"Yes," Sanzo answered, shortly, as if his voice couldn't be trusted for a longer answer.

"Gojyo?" Why would Gojyo be on the mountain?

"Took you long enough, ape," Gojyo said. Goku didn't need to see his face to hear he was smiling.

"But I've been awake," Goku protested. "I was--the mountain again--Sanzo, you..." He swallowed. "Sanzo, you're not angry with me now?"

He felt Sanzo still, felt the monk's silence like a draft from a glacier. But there was none of that cold in his tone when he answered. "No, Goku, I'm not."

Goku swallowed. "Oh. Good." He sat up, Sanzo's hand helping him. Looked around, but though this wasn't the mountain anymore he still couldn't see anything. "Sanzo," he said, fighting to keep the whine of fear from his tone, "the dark--why's it so dark?"

Another pause; then Sanzo, no catch in his voice this time, but a much more normal irritation, said, "Open your eyes, _bakazaru_."

"Oh," Goku said, and did. Sanzo was kneeling in front of him, peering closely into his face; he rocked back on his heels when Goku's golden eyes met his, nodded.

"So it worked," said a voice. Goku looked over to the man kneeling on the ground next to Sanzo. He glimpsed red hair and for a moment assumed it was Gojyo, but the man's face was different, a stranger's, for all the crimson hair and eyes were so familiar.

He remembered seeing that face before, briefly, before the mountain's darkness. And his voice was not quite unknown. "You were the wind," Goku said, frowning as he tried to remember. "You were talking to me..." The mountain he remembered with scary clarity, but that voice whispering in his ear as Sanzo called for him--what had it been saying? Telling him to listen, he remembered, and more--what was he to listen to? Sanzo's voice (as if he needed to be told that) but something else, too...

"Great, it worked," Gojyo said. "Now do it again, help Hakkai."

"Hakkai?" Goku scrambled up, almost tripping over the edge of Sanzo's robes. "What happened to Hakkai?" Hakkai was lying on the ground on his back, his head pillowed in Gojyo's lap. He was breathing, his injured arm resting on his rising and falling chest, but his pale face didn't change expression at Goku's call, his eyes staying closed.

"Hakkai?" Goku repeated, then remembered. "Gonou?"

But Hakkai didn't wake up, and Gojyo's shoulders hunched. "Don't call him that," he said, then turned from Goku and with the same sharp anger said, "You got Goku back; what are you waiting for?"

"It's not the same." The woman sat in the tree shadows behind Gojyo, her face palely visible, framed by the dark swathes of her red hair. Her smooth alto Goku also recognized: a voice in the woods, inescapable as the wind's whisper... "Your younger friend here, we knew where he had gone inside himself, as we had only just sent him there. But Gonou is different."

"_Hakkai_," Gojyo corrected, again, and angrier. "He's Hakkai, goddamn it." He was talking to the woman, and she was pretty enough, from what Goku could tell, but Gojyo wasn't looking at her, wasn't looking anywhere but at Hakkai's still face.

"Hakkai or Gonou, he's no one now," the lady said, cruelly flat. "We didn't drive him inward; he fled himself. We have no recourse by which to reach him."

"Then you better find one." The revolver was in Sanzo's hand, its barrel gleaming in the moonlight. "Now."

"Wait," protested the red-haired man. "We've done what we can--Goku, we helped him--"

"I told you," Sanzo said, keeping the gun aimed steadily at the woman's head. "Both of them, or neither of you."

"You can't--" the man said, apprehension cracking his voice.

The woman was calmer. "Whatever we would try will be useless. He knows we're his enemy; he won't trust us enough to listen. We yet had a hold on Goku and still he would barely obey. Hakkai is fleeing from us as much as from himself; if we tried to reach for him, we'd only drive him further inside."

"My sister's right," the red-haired man supported. "Though he might find his way to wake up on his own--if he feels safe, no longer threatened, he may recover..."

"Really?" Gojyo asked. "He'll get over it himself?"

"Is that likely?" Sanzo demanded, with far less hope. "Answer honestly," and his violet eyes flicked to his revolver in silent threat.

The man swallowed. "It's...not likely," he admitted, paler still. "Usually...usually they fade, not eating or drinking or moving, until they die..."

"No matter how terrible the vision in one's mind," the woman said, "it's still more certain than the real world. In one's own mind, nothing can happen but what one already knows or can imagine. The restrictions inside one's mind are safer than limitless reality."

Goku remembered his own limits--the cave's darkness, the weight of chains--and shook his head. "No," he said. "It's always better to be outside. And Hakkai knows that, he's too smart not to." When Gojyo didn't look up, despair in his bowed head, Goku said, louder, "He already came back partway, didn't he? When he was coming after us a couple nights ago, you stopped him, Gojyo, you made him remember enough to quit fighting us. We didn't need them for that, did we?" and he glared at the red-haired strangers. "Hakkai's alive now, we just have to get him back the rest of the way." And they would. They had already lost Hakkai once; Goku wasn't about to let that happen again.

"Hmm, yes," the lady remarked. "How did you free him before?"

"You didn't see?"

The red-haired twins glanced at one another, together shook their heads. "We had him foray ahead of us," the woman said, "and he was faster than we anticipated. It took us some time to track you in the forest."

"We were surprised when we did find you," her brother added. "That you could've reached Gonou, against our commands--we didn't anticipate that."

"We didn't reach him," Gojyo said, grimly, and reached to Hakkai's ear, the three silver limiters a faint glimmer through the dark.

"Wait--" Sanzo began, but Gojyo cut him off.

"It doesn't matter," he said, "he's way beyond that now," though Goku still saw Gojyo's back tense, his hand settling a little more firmly on Hakkai's unmoving shoulder as he unclasped the ear cuffs, one by one. Not in fear, though, Goku knew, at least not fear of Hakkai; Gojyo's face was as expressionless as Sanzo's at his angriest, but the slight trembling of his fingers on the cuffs was not dread, but hope.

But nothing happened, that Goku could see. Hakkai's body shifted as his power was released, ears extending to points as a pattern of vines wound its way up his cheek, but his eyes stayed closed, his shallow, even breathing not catching. Gojyo released his own breath in a sigh, inaudible, but Goku saw the way his shoulders sank.

Nothing; but the two strange half-youkai started, scrambling back from Hakkai's prone body with their red eyes wide. "He--" hissed the woman, pointing, "he's a demon, too?"

"But we were told he was human," said her brother, breathless and staring.

"He was human," Gojyo said grimly. "Until Hyakugan-maoh. You think you can kill a thousand youkai without a price?"

"You fools didn't even know what kind of blade you were unsheathing," Sanzo said, with such biting contempt that Goku almost flinched himself.

"Apparently not," said the woman, not cringing, but not insulted, either; they were getting over their shock, but hadn't stopped staring at Hakkai. Goku wondered if they understood now what they had been risking. If they had chanced to take off the limiters themselves--Hakkai as youkai couldn't be forced to obey anyone, even drugged or hypnotized, and the two of them wouldn't have been anywhere near strong enough to stop him.

But he was stopping himself now. Goku understood that much, that whatever was wrong with Hakkai now was not their doing, but Hakkai's own. He had gone so much further into that darkness than Goku had gotten, too far for anyone to find or follow him.

Though Goku would, if he knew how; and Sanzo would, too, with his light. And Gojyo--Gojyo already was trying; you could see it in his eyes, as he kept watching Hakkai even as he spoke to them, not raising his head to look at their enemies, his concentration never breaking from Hakkai's still face. His lips moved, silently, as he slipped the limiters back on Hakkai's pointed ears and Hakkai's body returned to its plain human form. Saying his name, soundlessly, which didn't matter because Hakkai wouldn't hear anyway.

Even not knowing the way, Gojyo was still trying to follow him.

"It was a mistake," the red-haired stranger said, holding his head in his hands. "This was all a mistake, we should never have..."

"No," Sanzo said, and there was no room for forgiveness in his tone. "You should not have."

The man climbed swaying to his feet, put up his arms. "If you're going to kill us," he said, meeting Sanzo's violet glare, "then do it now. There's nothing more we can do to help your friend."

But he glanced at Goku as he said it, and Goku tensed, because there was something in his red eyes that was not defeat. Something else entirely.

"Sanzo," Goku began, even as Sanzo cocked his gun--Sanzo had shot youkai in cold blood before, but this was different. Too sudden, and maybe it wasn't just that he wanted to, but because he had been told to, in that low steady voice that whispered its unavoidable commands. The voice on the wind, and he could almost remember what it had told him. _You will listen to me, and obey, when the word is spoken..."_

"Han-lu," cried the woman, standing in the shadows, and at first Goku thought she was merely fearing for her brother's life.

Then she said, "_Now!_" and he realized the truth. But before he could do anything, her brother answered her command, speaking a stream of syllables, a long word like a chant, a spell--

A curse, because suddenly Goku couldn't move--not that something was stopping him, but that he had lost all reason to move, had lost all will but the man's whisper, hissing, "Listen, listen to me once more, you must obey, as I command you--stop him!"

And he pointed, and Goku leapt to obey, lunging at Sanzo and knocking him to the forest floor. Sanzo cursed at him, trying to shove him off, but Goku was the stronger, forcing the lighter man down.

Gojyo was shouting, Sanzo struggling, but Goku focused only on what he had been tasked to do, fighting to get a grip on those flailing wrists to hold Sanzo in place. He heard something behind him, twisted to block that peripheral threat--

Sanzo's revolver went off with a blinding flash and a deafening bang, the recoil enough that Goku lost his grip, and before he could regain it something slammed hard into his head, smashing him once more into darkness.


	18. Return: Red

"Goku!"

Gojyo didn't need anyone to tell him what had happened. Even if he hadn't heard the red-haired man speak his orders, even if he hadn't seen the instant of horror on Goku's face before his expression flattened to robotic blankness, he still would have known what was wrong the moment Goku tackled Sanzo. Goku would never lay a finger on the monk in his right mind--hell, even in his wrong one: Seiten Taisei himself hesitated before striking Sanzo.

Which might have been why Sanzo went down so easily, from the shock of his monkey turning on him. Or maybe not; Goku was _strong_, in brute force the strongest of all of them, even Hakkai for all his skill. Something easy to forget when they were wrestling for leg room in the jeep's backseat--but then it had been a long time since they had argued like that (less than a month; a lifetime ago) and all Gojyo could think when Sanzo fell was that this was it. Hakkai already down, and now Sanzo, and he wouldn't last a minute against a berserk Goku turned against him. And once Goku came back to awareness and realized what he had been forced to do...

Except that Sanzo was struggling, and from the infuriated tenor of his cursing he wasn't hurt. _Stop him_, the strange half-youkai had ordered; and Goku was only obeying, only holding Sanzo down, when he as easily might have broken the monk's neck.

Gojyo scrambled up, Hakkai's head sliding off his lap, and extended his hand to summon his shakujou. He was trying to move silently, but not quietly enough; Goku's head started to turn, ands Gojyo braced himself for the attack.

Then Sanzo fired his revolver, the bullet careening harmlessly off into the forest, but the noise was distraction enough. Goku turned back, and Gojyo quick as lightning spun the shakujou around to crack the flat of the blade against his skull. Goku squawked and dropped like a rock.

Gojyo didn't move, his weapon ready in his hands. Goku was still, as still as Hakkai lying stretched out on the ground; so were the trees around them, not even wind rustling the leaves.

Only the four of them. No sign of the red-haired sister and brother, only empty shadows where they just before had stood.

Sanzo swore again and shoved the ape off him, though he took an instant to feel Goku's throat for a pulse, before launching to his feet, gun in hand. "Where'd they go?"

"I didn't see," Gojyo said.

"You didn't see?" Sanzo's blond head whipped around as he scanned the dark woods.

"I was distracted," Gojyo said, pointedly. "How's Goku?"

"They can't have gotten far," Sanzo said. "You search north; I'll go south."

Gojyo would have stared at him, if he hadn't been so tired that holding his head up was an effort. The whole long night was catching up with him as the adrenaline ebbed. The shakujou was in danger of slipping from his lax fingers; only the knowledge that he hadn't hit Goku hard enough to take him out for long kept him holding on. "Sanzo," he began, but before he could ask the obvious question about the monk's sanity, Goku groaned.

Gojyo pushed back his exhaustion and hauled up the shakujou, as Sanzo reluctantly aimed his gun. But Goku didn't leap to attack, instead sat up slowly, rubbing his head, saying, "Sanzo, what..."

Then his eyes widened, guilt shining too bright in the gold. "What was I doing? Did I--I didn't attack--"

"It wasn't your fault," Sanzo said with gruff reassurance. "Those damn mind-readers used you as a distraction."

"Where'd they go?" Goku jumped up, spun around as if their enemies might be surrounding him. But even his sharp eyes must not have been able to penetrate the forest's shadows, because he didn't charge into the trees but stayed in the clearing with them.

Not attacking them, either; whatever hypnotic spell the half-youkai had put on him must have been temporary, not like the brainwashing they had done to Hakkai. Gojyo let out a long sigh, dropped the shakujou and let himself fall after it, folding to his knees and pulling Hakkai back onto his lap. Hakkai still had not moved, his too-calm repose undisturbed, even when Gojyo brushed the brown bangs from his closed eyes, pressed a palm to his cool cheek.

"We'll find them," Sanzo was saying. "The three of us can track them, if we stop wasting time."

"And do what, leave Hakkai here alone?" Gojyo snapped.

Sanzo spared them a glance. "Fine. You stay here; Goku and I--"

"But, Sanzo--"

There was a hissing in his ears; Gojyo couldn't tell if it was from the surrounding forest or the blood boiling in his veins. "We don't have time for that--we don't need those bastards now, they told us themselves, they can't help Hakkai."

"Are you suggesting we just let them get away?" Sanzo sounded more incredulous than angry. Gojyo knew better than to think that would last more than a moment, but couldn't care. Sanzo's rage meant nothing to him, not when Goku was awake and alive, watching them with wide golden eyes. Not when Hakkai was still unmoving, but for the slow silent rise and fall of his chest under Gojyo's hand, a rhythm Gojyo was more aware of than the air moving in his own lungs.

"I'm suggesting that there's more important things to worry about," Gojyo said. "They're the ones who ran from us; they're not going to attack us again right away."

"If we take them now, they won't attack us again, ever."

"And how the hell will that help Hakkai now?" The rushing noise was getting louder. He was glaring at Sanzo, and the monk was glaring back with his face whitening in his fury, and Gojyo knew with sudden straightforward insight that Sanzo's anger was the same as his own. Born of the same fear that there might be nothing they could do, that they had in the end lost Hakkai after all, and revenge, however bitter and unsatisfying, might be all they had left.

But Hakkai was still breathing. And whatever nightmares from his past the bastards had put him through, he had survived them before; he would again. Hakkai was strong, strong enough to beat this.

Gojyo could believe that, because he had to; and Goku could believe it, because Goku's faith and hope were as strong and enduring as his rock-born body. But Sanzo had faith in nothing, and pessimism had been branded in his heart as indelibly as the chakra on his forehead.

"Sanzo..." Gojyo began, and stopped, not knowing where to go from there.

"We can look for them later, can't we, Sanzo?" Goku said, softly, inching toward Gojyo and Hakkai, but looking at Sanzo, and the hope shimmering in his golden eyes might be sturdy enough to support him and the monk as well. "Right now we should bring Hakkai somewhere safe."

In the following silence the hissing resolved into the patter of rain on the tree branches above, a sprinkle of cool drops falling on Gojyo's head, on Hakkai's face.

"And how are we to bring him anywhere?" Sanzo demanded finally, still sounding angry, but that question already proved him defeated.

And he was answered immediately by a shrill high call overhead. Hakuryuu came spiraling down from the treetops, white scales shining against the dark clouds. He landed on Gojyo's thigh and curved his neck to peer anxiously into Hakkai's closed eyes, spread his wings to shelter his master's head from the rain.

"Hakuryuu!" Goku cried in a burst of relief. Gojyo stroked the little dragon's arched back. "They scared you, didn't they," he said, "after the way they hurt you before." The half-youkais' drugs and mind tricks must not have worked on the dragon the first time; they had had to fight him off to take Hakkai. All but killed him; Gojyo remembered too clearly the broken wings, the long week of the dragon's healing. Small wonder he had fled tonight, after what they had done to him then.

Hakuryuu trilled apologetically, butted his head against Gojyo's hand with guilty deference. "It's okay," Gojyo reassured him with a pat, "it's good you weren't hurt. We need you to transform now."

Hakuryuu nodded, head bobbing on his flexible neck, glided to the widest area of the clearing and became the jeep, canopied against the rain. Gojyo slid his arms under Hakkai, lifted up his limp body. Heavier than his trim frame looked, and Gojyo remembered how that had surprised him, that other rainy night four years ago. The unexpected weight of that slender, bleeding figure, as startling as the green bright life in his dying eyes...

He carried Hakkai to the jeep, Goku pacing beside him, elbow to elbow, close enough to catch him if he slipped in the mud. Laid Hakkai down on the backseat, legs stretched out on one side of the seat, and Gojyo sat on the other side, cradling his shoulders and torso, Hakkai's head resting heavily on his chest.

Goku got into the front passenger seat, and, saying nothing, Sanzo climbed into the driver's seat. The monk exhaled once, what might have been a sigh, then started the engine. There were a several trails out of the clearing wide enough for the jeep to navigate. Sanzo drove west, of course.

They reached a road after a little while and continued driving through the night, leaving the woods as morning broke. The rising sun scattered the last rain clouds, slanting rose-gold rays twinkling on puddles in potholes. Gojyo blinked at the light, didn't bring up a hand to shade his eyes. His arms stayed wrapped around Hakkai, protecting him from the jostling bumps in the road. After so many hours his arms and legs were numb, but he didn't notice, anymore than he noticed the hair tickling his neck, or the bruises from the past nights' fights.

He wasn't asleep, not really, his open eyes watching the road, but he wasn't truly seeing anything, and if asked how long they had been driving or how far they had traveled he wouldn't have been able to answer. All he would've been able to say was that Hakkai's heartbeat was steady, thumping under Gojyo's hand resting over his heart, and his breath continued to come in soft, even sighs, every warm exhalation stirring a few wayward strands of Gojyo's red hair.

In the front seat, Sanzo and Goku were mostly silent, but also awake, and occasionally quiet murmured conversation would pass between them. As the cloudy sky lightened and the forest around them melted into rolling fields and farmland, Goku remarked, "It'll be hard to track them, after that rain."

"Yes," Sanzo said, though usually he would have let something so stupidly self-evident pass without comment. But then he must be as tired as any of them, and maybe talking helped keep him focused on the driving.

"Sanzo," Goku said, after a pause, "I'm really sorry. For attacking you."

"It wasn't your fault," Sanzo snapped, harsh with exhaustion. "The son of a bitch got to you when he was waking you up, planted you with a post-hypnotic suggestion. Even if Gojyo hadn't stopped you, you would've shrugged it off in a minute. But that was all the time they needed."

"If it wasn't for me, they wouldn't have gotten away..."

"Maybe. No way to know. They did; that's that."

"Do you think they'll come after us again, Sanzo?"

Sanzo took his time answering, finally echoed himself. "No way to know."

"If they don't...we might not be able to find them again."

"Likely not." Sanzo's hands tightened on the wheel. "Damn mind-reading halfbreed bastards aren't our mission anyway."

"No, but..." Goku sank further down in the seat, curled in on himself. "Sanzo, even if it wasn't my fault--I'm still sorry."

Sanzo sighed. "There's no need. You wouldn't have killed me, _bakazaru_. Hypnotized or not."

"But Hakkai tried--"

"What they did to brainwash Hakkai was different," Sanzo said. "And besides, you aren't Hakkai. Nor me, nor Gojyo. Son Goku wouldn't kill me."

Goku said nothing, hunched small in the seat.

The pause stretched into silence, the stillness of early morning; then it broke: "And I would never bring you back to the mountain," Sanzo said, lower, and harsher yet, like the words were being ripped from his chest. Like he had to cough them up before the guilt shredded his guts. "I'll never leave you to that darkness. No matter what. I would die before that, so if ever you see me try, know it's a dream or a lie. Never be so stupid as to believe it."

"Okay, Sanzo," Goku said, as softly, but his own voice wasn't rough but calm, gentle as rarely it could be. Understanding; apologizing; absolving. "I won't ever again. I promise.

"Good," Sanzo said, and that was all for a while.

Gojyo heard their voices without listening, without really being able to listen, but he found comfort in the familiar sound, hoped Hakkai would as well. Hoped the well-known growl of the jeep's engine and the rough bouncing shocks would offer their own kind of shelter. Hakkai had to feel safe, the man had said; safe enough to emerge from the protected prison of his mind.

This was not 'safe;' their journey never had been. But it was what they knew, and there was comfort in that, and maybe it could be enough.

They reached the town mid-afternoon. Goku's stomach had been rumbling audibly for hours by then, but he said nothing about it. If Gojyo were hungry himself, he hadn't noticed. He wouldn't have realized they had stopped, but for the abrupt jerk as Sanzo slammed on the brakes just in time to keep them from careening into a wagon. Hakuryuu squealed; Sanzo blinked dully through the windshield, rubbed his eyes and then backed carelessly and crookedly into an alley between the inn and a playhouse.

Sanzo paid for the room; Gojyo carried Hakkai inside, his stiff legs lasting just long enough to get them to the bed. It was the same inn they had stayed at only days before, might have even been the same room, for all he could remember. The bed was narrow, barely wide enough for both of them, but he curled around Hakkai close enough that whether there were two or one didn't matter.

Some short time later Goku brought water and food, stew and soup; they got a little beef broth down Hakkai's throat and he didn't choke, but he didn't wake up, either, his lashes not even fluttering. The stew Goku whined and fussed about until he got Gojyo to swallow it; after Gojyo was done Goku asked if he wanted some ale, but he refused, and pulled Hakkai closer to warm his cold skin.

Drinking had been about all he had done when in this town before, but right now he was already numb; alcohol wouldn't change anything. No way to make the wait shorter, as he counted the seconds between Hakkai's steady breaths, and whispered to him. Empty reassurances, meaningless requests. "It's okay, Hakkai. You're safe now. You can wake up now, please. It's okay, Hakkai..."

Goku sat with him, squeezing on the edge of the bed, and Hakuryuu curled up on Hakkai's stomach. Sanzo sat on the other bed opposite and watched, sometimes smoking a cigarette, sometimes not. The light outside the window gradually faded into darkness. Hakkai's face was pale in the twilight, mouth closed, eyes closed, dark lashes outlined on his white skin. He might have been deeply asleep, deeper than any dreams could reach, drifted so far from the shell of his body that he left it empty, relaxed and expressionless.

But he would come back. He had before, long ago; he was so strong that even wanting to die, he had lived. Lived on as Cho Hakkai, when Cho Gonou had died; and Cho Hakkai was too strong to die now for Gonou's long-lost life.

Gojyo didn't know when he finally drifted to sleep, didn't know he had until he realized he was young again, a boy, kneeling in that house in the woods, and there was the only mother he had known, with the axe--but it wasn't his brother, but Hakkai, spreading his arms to protect, as the axe fell...and then he walked into the room, and they were all of them lying there dead, and the groceries spilled from his arms and he couldn't breathe...and then they were in the forest, and Chin Isou had won, and centipedes crawled through the bloody holes where Hakkai's eyes should be...and then the road as he walked home, tipsy and tired and wet from the rain, and a body blocked his path, dead green eyes staring sightlessly up at the clouds as he rolled the corpse over with a kick...

And then there was the room at the old roadside inn, and the long knife blade dripping blood, too late for Gojyo to do anything but scream--but it hadn't happened. None of it had happened; none of it was real, except Hakkai's heart beating against him. His skin seemed warmer now.

Maybe Gojyo was still asleep, still dreaming; it was dark, and he heard Goku's voice asking, "But what can we do, Sanzo?"

And Sanzo replied, "Let them sleep; that might be all they need, now. Hakkai's suffering from shock as much as anything, and he might have used up more energy than he had to blast that son of a bitch last night."

"But what those half-youkai said, about how they usually die, the people they'd done this to before..." Goku said, barely above a whisper, as if the quieter he spoke it the less true it would be.

"Can't believe anything those bastards told us," Sanzo said. "They screwed up every damn thing they tried to do to us. They're bound to be wrong about this, too."

"But will they really be all right, Sanzo?" Goku asked. "Both of them?" and Gojyo wondered what the ape meant, since he himself wasn't hurt. Unless Goku was talking about Hakuryuu, but the dragon was healed by now, wasn't he? Or else he was still dreaming.

Sanzo, a dream or not, didn't take long to answer. "Yes," he said, in a tone that the universe itself would think twice about contradicting. "They will be."

What an asshole the monk was, to say it like that--not comforting, because Sanzo didn't do comfort, but pissed off. A threat. Hell to pay if things didn't go his way, and Gojyo was so damn sick of that almighty attitude, even in his dreams.

But he didn't have anymore nightmares after that.

And then there was warm bright morning sunlight on his face, dancing colors behind his eyelids. Gojyo opened them, blinked at the light. The little inn room was empty. He sat up, almost rolled off the edge of the bed as he stretched.

Hakkai was lying beside him, on his back, injured arm across his chest over the blankets. Still and quiet, but as Gojyo shifted, he stirred, slow breaths catching.

Gojyo froze. Hakkai's eyes fluttered open, emerald green in the sunlight. His uninjured arm lifted, went to his stomach, splayed hand convulsively feeling for the wound, his torn belly. Found only the scar, years healed, and for an instant his brow furrowed, confusion clouding his eyes.

Then it cleared, his brow smoothing out. "Ah," he said, calmly. "That was quite some time ago, wasn't it."

"Yeah," Gojyo said, and Hakkai's voice might have been perfectly steady but his own baritone cracked like he was thirteen. "A long time ago. And it's never going to happen again. Is it."

Hakkai blinked rapidly, turned his head on the pillow towards him. "Gojyo," he said, and maybe there was the slightest falter of that calm tone--but there was recognition in his gaze, familiarity and acceptance and no surprise. Like he had known all along that Gojyo was there. "No," Hakkai said, confirming it by meeting his eyes. "Never again."

Pain in his eyes, but honesty, too; a promise, even after all he had gone through, and he said it knowing Gojyo, knowing Gojyo would hold him to it.

Hakkai's strength, not Gonou; this was Hakkai, returned, and living, body and mind both. There was more in those green eyes that he wasn't saying yet, and his expression was calm but grim: no smile, even fake. Gojyo remembered too well the three years and more that it had taken his spirit to heal before, to think that those reopened wounds would be soon closed. But heal they would. Hakkai was alive.

Gojyo might have cried, if he hadn't heard the footsteps on the stairs outside the door, hadn't heard Goku calling up, "Hey, we got breakfast, are you awake yet?" and the tears gathering in his throat changed.

"Yeah," he shouted back, "we're up!" and instead of sobbing he laughed, a loud helpless overjoyed laugh. And if Hakkai didn't return it, then at least he was alive to stare at Gojyo with a wondering, wonderful bemusement. Bemusement, but no censure, which was good, because Gojyo couldn't have stopped laughing, even if he had had any reason to try.


	19. Return: Violet

After three days, Sanzo had reached the dregs of his limited measure of patience.

Hakkai was eating, at least, which was as much as Sanzo would have expected of him. Was talking, too, and if his tone was more deferentially quiet than usual, and if his standard steady smile was nonexistent, neither Gojyo nor Goku seemed to notice. Goku covered any pauses with cheerfully inconsequential chatter; and as for Gojyo, silence or speech, smiles or tears, all satisfied the halfbreed. As long as he was in Hakkai's immediate presence; leaving the inn room only long enough for a meal made him restless. Like he was afraid Hakkai might drop through a crack in the floor and disappear without his attention.

But then, Goku had been showing a marked and unnatural reluctance to go fetch food himself. And Sanzo couldn't abandon Hakkai to the pair of idiots, so he was obliged to stick close as well.

It made for tight quarters, as Hakkai showed no inclination to leave the inn, or even the room. Goku had suggested a restaurant for lunch the morning Hakkai had awoken, but Hakkai had shaken his head, and Gojyo had shut Goku up with a few half-assed insults and hadn't allowed the subject to arise again. Instead he provided room service, spending every meal carefully selecting the best cuts and servings to bring back to Hakkai.

And under his watchful eye Hakkai ate, with a paced, deliberate effort that was not quite forcing the food down. It had helped; he looked much improved physically, color returning to a dangerously wan complexion.

When he had first woken up, when Sanzo had entered the room on Goku's heels--the ape had bolted up the stairs at Gojyo's answering holler, Hakuryuu soaring beside him, and Sanzo had ascended after them, walked in to find the dragon keening joyfully and Goku jumping up and down like a spring in front of Hakkai. An awake and living Hakkai, though he was pale enough to pass for a ghost, sitting up and deliberately leaning away from Gojyo's supporting arm.

But he had called them by name, had spoken to them as Hakkai, not Gonou. Had listened in attentive silence, Hakuryuu curled around his shoulders, as the three of them took turns explaining recent events, Sanzo raising his voice over Goku and Gojyo when their overlapping babbles got too incoherent. Hakkai had nodded understanding and asked no questions, not until they finally fell silent, and then he spoke into that quiet, "So they got away?"

"Yes," Sanzo said, and glanced at Gojyo, not quite a glare. The half-youkai didn't notice anyway, just nodded to Hakkai, and Hakkai said no more about it. When Goku attempted to raise the matter again that evening--"Now that Hakkai's okay, maybe we should go back to the forest--" Gojyo talked right over him, and that subject too failed to come up again.

True, they hadn't caught a glimpse of blood-red hair since arriving in town, save Gojyo's own. Sanzo kept careful watch, but wasn't really expecting to see anything. The halfbreed bastards had chosen their target unwisely, by their own admittance; they likely wouldn't be inclined to try again. Still, outside or inside, Sanzo's hand hovered over the hilt of his gun, loaded and ready in his sleeve, should he chance to glimpse twin pairs of crimson eyes or smell the sickly sweet of their drugged incense.

Meanwhile, Hakkai had come back to them, but only so far and no farther, and that was as frustrating as knowing the damn mindreaders were still out there. More frustrating, since it tied them down--tied him down, to the stupid little town, to the bare white-washed walls of the cheap inn. They had a job to do, a sacred mission (damned be the gods) that left no time for this. No time for Goku's simple acceptance of the town's poor food and timid dull population; no time for the unending patience in Gojyo's voice when he talked with Hakkai, grinning like an idiot and laughing extra to fill in the spaces when Hakkai wouldn't.

No time; so when Gojyo that morning after breakfast said that he had something he needed to take care of, Sanzo didn't bother inquiring whether it was a bar tab or a woman, just said, "Fine, then go," without asking how long it would take. Once the kappa was gone, he dismissed the ape with a request for groceries that should occupy him for an hour or more; Goku was easily distracted by the presence of food he was allowed to eat.

Though he hesitated before accepting the gold card Sanzo shoved at him, bright eyes sliding questioningly from the monk to Hakkai sitting up in the bed by the wall, and it wasn't until Hakkai nodded fractionally that Goku took the card. "I'll be right back," he promised, and went downstairs, Hakuryuu gliding after him after a gesture from Hakkai.

Sanzo waited until the clattering thumps of his steps had faded before opening his mouth. But Hakkai spoke first, without preamble or hesitation. "How many did I kill, last week?"

Sanzo looked at him. "You don't remember."

"Some of it," Hakkai said, shaking his head. "Not enough. Not of what really happened." He looked down at his hand, opened and closed his fingers. "There were some, weren't there."

"Maybe."

"Please don't humor me, Sanzo." There was life in him yet, a brief but furious flash in his green eyes, though his tone remained dead calm.

"That's honesty, not humoring," Sanzo said irritably. "I didn't see you kill anyone personally. And I can't be sure of a damn thing I saw last week anyway. We told you what those mindreader bastards did."

"I understand what they could do," Hakkai said, and his voice didn't quite break of it. "But there were deaths, weren't there."

Sanzo hesitated, then nodded once. "Four. The innkeeper and his family. One dead of knife wounds; the other bodies were burned."

"Knife wounds. So it's certain who killed them."

"Hardly. Those bastards could swing a knife; they wouldn't have needed any great skill to butcher a few civilians. We know it was a man all in black, that's it, and that halfbreed son of a bitch wore the same outfit as you. And besides, anything anyone saw around them is suspect."

"But there's a good chance it was me," Hakkai said, steadily.

"Yes," Sanzo said, fighting down the part of him that wanted to correct that it was Gonou, not him, not for any of it. Meaningless distinctions, in the end, as meaningless as the attempted kindness would be.

Hakkai said nothing, studying his clean, empty hands

"Eight hundred and eleven," Sanzo said abruptly. Hakkai looked up and he continued, "It's been eight hundred and eleven. Youkai, most of them. Once I reach a thousand I suppose I can stop counting. And they had families, most of them. Lives, most of them, until Gyuumao's madness took them."

"Self-defense," Hakkai said. "Not murdering innocents."

"And the innkeepers who sold you to those mind-game bastards are innocent? Innocent, guilty, they're dead. And you're alive. I'm alive. Whether we stay that way or not has no effect on any of our corpses. Eight hundred and eleven, and it would have been eight hundred thirteen if I'd shot those halfbreed twins as I should've."

"I'm glad you didn't," Hakkai said quietly.

"You remember them?"

"Not really. The sound of her voice, almost...it was different from hers, and yet... But Gojyo's told me enough. What they did. Why they did it. They had reasons."

"_Reasons_." Sanzo snorted. "We have _reasons_ to spare, ourselves. Everyone does. What's the Minus Wave, if not a reason? All the damn youkai we've killed have reasons. Who does anything without a reason? What those bastards did was pointless and unforgivable, _reason_ or not."

"I wonder if a mortal can do anything that's not pointless, ultimately," Hakkai said. "And I've done far more that's far more unforgivable--or will you say I've been granted forgiveness by now, Sanzo?" and his voice had gone cold and brittle. "For the old sins, at least, if not the new ones?"

"Forgiveness?" Sanzo cast him a dour look. "The gods don't grant absolution, and what worth would it be if they did? That's not why we're on this journey. If it's absolution you're seeking, shave your head and stand under a winter waterfall. The idiot kappa would probably keep you company."

"If not absolution, then why are we on this journey?" and this might be Gonou after all, because it was not Hakkai, to question so candidly. Of anyone, Hakkai was the most indirect, gracefully, artfully oblique. But there was desperation in his eyes now, in his voice. A need for answers, when those old griefs and guilts were now again so fresh they were crushing him.

There was no mitigation for that, but Sanzo had reasons to give, however useless they were. "Because we were told to do it," he said, "and someone has to."

"But I wasn't told to," Hakkai said, and there was something else in his voice, too, a rational calm that Sanzo liked the sound of even less than the desperation. "It was Hakkai who agreed to this journey."

"And you're Hakkai," Sanzo snarled. His hands curled into fists of their own volition.

Hakkai shook his head, too calmly. "Perhaps Hakkai was just the illusion, after all. You all saw it. Gonou is not dead." He looked down at his hands again. "Their absolution is worthless indeed. It was unconscionable to let me live. To let me start over, when I could just backtrack. Retrace my steps."

"Not by choice."

"Since when does choice enter into anything we do, Sanzo?" Hakkai asked. "You can call me Hakkai now, but who knows what could happen, where we'll go? What if this happens again, next week or next year?"

That he could answer, immediately and without question. "We won't allow it."

"And if you have no choice in that?"

"Then we won't allow it to continue," Sanzo told him. "You have my word, Hakkai. My word, Goku's, Gojyo's. None of us will ever allow it."

Hakkai stared at him, and there was a moment of hope within the desperation, a fragile yearning feeling.

But then he dropped his head, and his voice when he spoke was soft and empty. "I can't, Sanzo. I'm sorry. There's too much to risk, too much at stake, and I...I can't do this anymore."

"You don't have to," said a voice from outside in the hall. Gojyo was leaning against the door jam with his arms crossed, his expression an impossible compound of satisfaction and sorrow. "Here," he said, and strode past Sanzo to hand Hakkai a folded paper.

Hakkai opened the sheet, looked at the line drawing of the house on it. A little one-story cottage, thatch roof and flowerboxes under the windows, homey and inviting in black ink strokes. "It's still up for rent, I just asked," Gojyo said. "Not as cheap as it could be, but I can bargain it down." He sat down on the edge of the bed, watching Hakkai's face studying the picture. "It's a nice little town, Hakkai. Big enough that no one sticks out, but small enough to still be friendly. I can talk my way back into the local bars, no sweat; they can use a real gambler to keep them entertained. And there's children, a lot of children, everyone in town keeps going on about how they want another teacher in the schoolhouse.

Hakkai touched the sketched windowpanes. "But for how long?" he asked, almost too softly to be heard.

"We don't have time for this nonsense," Sanzo growled. "The gods don't give an annual vacation plan."

"As long as you need," Gojyo said, like he didn't hear Sanzo at all, like Sanzo wasn't even in the room.

"It's not that simple," Hakkai said.

"Yes, it is. The rent's not that expensive, I'll be able to cover it. However long you need to feel ready, Hakkai. A week, a month, a year. Three years again, if that's what it takes."

"And if I never feel ready again?"

Gojyo didn't blink, just shrugged. "It's a nice town. The kind of place where it'd be comfortable to grow old."

"Not a year," Sanzo said. "Not a month. A week, maybe. No more."

Gojyo never looked at him, though he raised his voice a fraction. "If you're ready you can leave today, Sanzo. Nothing's stopping you."

And that was plain truth, which he didn't have the time to stand around arguing, but when Sanzo opened his mouth to say so, all that came out was a flat and powerless, "_No._"

"Right," Goku agreed, coming into the room and closing the door behind him with one foot, Hakuryuu perched on his shoulder and his hands full with a tray of rice bowls. "I got lunch for all of us," he explained, unnecessarily, as he set the tray down on the table, then said, "The place is big enough for four, right, Gojyo?"

"Right, I double-checked," Gojyo replied, winking. "Two bedrooms, separate bath, a full kitchen--twice the size of the one in my old place," and he nodded to Hakkai and Goku. Goku grinned back.

Hakkai looked at the ape, and then Gojyo, with an astonished open-mouthed silence that was utterly different than his mute apathy before.

"Not an option," Sanzo said, feeling like he was standing on the seashore trying to stop the incoming tide with a sieve. "We leave. Tomorrow, or the day after."

"No," Goku said, not stubbornly, but earnest. "We can't, Sanzo."

"Maybe he's right, Goku," Hakkai said. He was gazing once more at the paper in his hands. "There's no reason for you not to go on; you all should leave without me..."

There was resignation in his voice, and suddenly that defeated quiet sparked a furious reaction in Sanzo, a week's untargeted frustration and rage finding a focus. "We should, then? And if they do come for you again--if Gonou's resurrected again--how many innocents would it be this time, you think, in this pleasant little town of yours? You'd have that be on our heads, that we allowed it to happen?"

"_Sanzo!_" Goku protested, a choked squeak.

"You're coming with us," Sanzo said, and it felt more right than anything had in days. "We're continuing on our way. All four of us. You could before and you can now. This isn't a part-time job; you can't simply decide to quit. You agreed to this journey, and you will make it."

Hakkai was white, whiter than when he had first awoken, paler than the dead.

A sharp crack sounded, echoed against the window glass and in Hakuryuu's surprised cry. Gojyo had swept his arm across Goku's tray, knocking the rice bowls to the floor, and one clay bowl shattered into four uneven pieces, strewing sticky white grains over the worn wood. "You said it yourself," the half-youkai said, standing in that wreckage, staring at Sanzo. "Once something's broken, no one can put it back just the way it was. Not even you, Genjo Sanzo-sama."

Gojyo turned back to Hakkai. "Do you want me to put down the deposit for this house, or not? Maybe a different place? A different town? It's your choice, whatever he says. It's your choice, whatever you need, however long you need."

"Whatever you want," Goku said, just as quietly, and shot an anxious look at Sanzo. On his shoulder Hakuryuu's ruby eyes glittered as the dragon also gazed at him.

Sanzo was the designated leader of their expedition, had from the beginning understood the urgency of what was demanded of him, the importance to the world and all her people. And once he accepted responsibility, he would see it through. He had always suspected that was why he had been handed this mission. One failure was enough for him; never again.

Though meeting Hakkai's living green eyes, there was something in him other than anger, something more than frustration, for all that he was losing here.

"Shit," the monk swore, and turned on his heel, turned his back on all of them. "Do as you will."

Maybe this wasn't quite failure. There was none of that bitter taste in his mouth now, though he'd gotten familiar enough with it in the week before.

"Sanzo?" Goku said behind him, footsteps following close at his heels, distressed.

"Don't whine, _bakazaru_," Sanzo said. "Hakuryuu's here; I can't go anywhere without a ride, can I?"

Maybe not failure at all, but the way to victory. Eventually.

"Sanzo," Goku behind him said, and he didn't need to look back to know the ape was smiling, even as Sanzo slammed the door in his face.

As long as it took. And the damned gods would have to just hold on, because this was in the end the only way.


	20. Return: Gold

"Sanzo," Goku said, as the door shut.

Gojyo stopped him. "Don't bother," he said. "He's coming around. Just give him time."

Which Goku already knew. Sanzo was too smart not to understand. They didn't have any other choices; last week had proven that. Still, it was difficult not to go after him, not to make sure. If Sanzo took the challenge, decided to leave on his own, without them, without him--

Bu he wouldn't. Sanzo understood. It was why he was so angry, after all.

"See, Hakkai," Gojyo said. He was smiling, the smile he had had since Hakkai had woken up three days ago. Different from his other smiles--or maybe it had just been so long since Goku had seen Gojyo smile. But it seemed like something was there that hadn't been before. Or maybe something was gone away that had once been there. It suited Gojyo's face, anyway. Made Goku grin, too, to see it. "It's all set. Everything's okay."

"_Okay_?" Hakkai, staring at the picture of the cottage in his hands, raised his head, and a vague feeling in his green eyes snapped into sharp focus. "How can you say that and mean it, Gojyo? How can you imagine it's true?"

Gojyo blanched, not so much at Hakkai's as-always-polite tone as his expression, and Hakuryuu spread his wings and hissed anxiously. Goku was relieved, however. He had been a little worried, leaving Sanzo alone with Hakkai when Gojyo wouldn't want it, but it had been the right thing to do after all. Hakkai was talking with anger in his eyes, feeling where there had been nothing before. These last few days, Goku had feared that something in Hakkai really had been broken, or had left him, after what those red-haired twins had done to him. But it was still there after all, hidden deep inside under Hakkai's quiet. Sanzo had stirred it up again, like poking ashes with a stick; the fire flaring up was painfully hot, but sometimes pain is as necessary a sense as sight or sound, and Hakkai needed it.

Though Gojyo now was looking like Hakkai had gone and stabbed him with his knife. "You were right, what you just told Sanzo," Hakkai said. "There's nothing stopping you from leaving now--nothing except me. If you're worried about what I might do--what Gonou might do, if I--"

"_Shit!_" Gojyo cut him off. "That's not it--that damn monk's a lunatic, to say that--"

"Sanzo didn't," Hakkai said. "I said it first. Sanzo told me it couldn't happen. That I would be stopped, if it did, by him. By you," and he glanced at them like he was looking for confirmation.

He shouldn't need to ask, but Goku nodded, and Gojyo answered, "Damn straight!" though he didn't look mollified, obviously still cursing Sanzo out in the privacy of his head. Aloud, however, he just said, "We're not staying here to babysit you, Hakkai--what do I look like, a nursemaid? And you're no baby. We're staying because we want to."

"Because of me," Hakkai said. "Because it's what I need."

"Hell, maybe I'm just sick of being on the road," Gojyo said, too false to even be a joke, though he faked a laugh.

"Because it's what we need," Goku said.

"But it's as Sanzo said," Hakkai said. "We have a job to do--you have a job to do. Something too important to quit, just because you want to..." His fists closed, crumpling the sheet of paper, and his voice was barely louder than that rustle. "I know I shouldn't...If I were stronger..."

"Bullshit," Gojyo told him. "You were strong enough to survive what those bastards did to you--that's better than anyone else did, from what they said. It's not your fault that you need time to heal. Even the damn monk would have to take a few months off if he got shot through the heart--if he had one, anyway."

"Even so," Hakkai said. "If you truly believe I'm strong--you needn't be concerned with leaving me to heal by myself. Go on without me, and trust I'll follow if I'm ready."

"But we can't, Hakkai," Goku said.

Hakkai glanced at the dragon on Goku's shoulder. "If it's Hakuryuu, I can convince him--"

Goku shook his head, and said, carefully, so he would be understood, "It's not that, Hakkai. You weren't there, you didn't see what it was like, without you. I used to travel alone with Sanzo, but now there's four of us. And that's the way it has to be." He wondered how he had ever thought it could be just him and Sanzo. Wondered how only two could have managed this--they couldn't. Impossible. This was the only way it was right, they four on this journey. As inevitably necessary as sunlight, as food, as air. "Without you, it was like--like forgetting how to breathe. We knew we had to do it, had to go on, like you know your lungs need air, but we couldn't remember how. We couldn't until we found out you might be alive, and then we knew what we were doing again. How to breathe again.

"So we have to wait for you, Hakkai. Until you're ready, and it can be the four of us traveling again--the five of us," and he stroked Hakuryuu's narrow head as the dragon purred. "That's the only way it can be."

Goku didn't think he was saying it right; Sanzo could have said it better, with his understanding. But Sanzo wasn't here. And Gojyo didn't interrupt him, only nodded.

"That..." Hakkai swallowed, pale like he was forgetting how to breathe himself. Finally he looked away from Goku, his eyes falling to the floor, to the shards of the broken bowl at Gojyo's feet. "But what if...as you said, Gojyo; as Sanzo said. Some things can't be fixed."

"Then maybe our journey's over," Gojyo said. "And the gods will have to find new victims. Or maybe we'll find another way, but for now, don't worry about it. Ignore Sanzo's bitching; just relax and let go. You don't need to pick up anything again until you're ready to. Whatever you need, we've got it."

"Or will get it," Goku agreed. Then tilted his head up in a sidelong glance at Gojyo, and muttered, loudly, "Unless Gojyo goes and spills it," and he stared mournfully at the rice on the floor. "You gotta learn to ignore Sanzo, too--that was our lunch!"

"I thought even a monkey's clever enough to pick up its food," Gojyo shot back.

"Only a stupid cockroach would eat rice off the floor!"

Though as annoyed as Goku was making himself sound, he and Gojyo both were peeking at Hakkai instead of glaring at each other. And if Hakkai wasn't smiling, there was a relaxing of the lines in his brow that was worth any measure of lost lunch.

The inn didn't have room service, but Gojyo went to sweet-talk the maid into lending her broom and dustpan while Goku knelt to pick up the bowls and pieces of bowl. Hakkai got up to help him, still moving a little stiffly with his broken arm in its sling. He had been applying his healing energies to the bone and it probably would be all right in a day or two; now he helped Goku with one-handed patience. When Gojyo came back, with not only the dustpan but the maid to boot, Goku left to get a replacement meal.

And Sanzo as well. Who hadn't gone far. Goku found the monk outside the inn, standing on the curb under their window smoking a cigarette. He probably had been able to hear everything they said, with the window cracked to air out the room. Sanzo didn't say anything about that, though. Just remarked, not looking at him, "There's a ramen shop three blocks down."

"Sounds good," Goku said cheerfully, and headed in the direction Sanzo pointed. Sanzo put out his cigarette and followed, though Goku still had the gold card. But it was useful; with another pair of hands to carry the take-out back, he could order three bowls for himself.

"How long do you think it will take, Sanzo?" Goku asked as they started back to the inn, burdened with several bags of sloshing cartons.

"Who can say?" Sanzo shrugged.

"It's not that I don't want to do the gods' mission," Goku told him, hurriedly. "I don't want to stay here forever, I want to travel with you. I want to keep going West, and I want to fight Kougaiji again, and I want to know I'm strong enough to win. But this is important. This is more important. Isn't it?"

"Why ask me?" Sanzo said. "Haven't you already decided?"

Goku didn't say anything. He was practicing patience. Patience was important, with Sanzo. Sometimes Sanzo could take a long time to say things.

This time they were at the inn's door before Sanzo finally said, abrupt with irritation, "It's important. Too damn important," and Goku grinned, because only honesty could irritate Sanzo that much.

Five seconds later he lost that grin, as before he could toe open the inn door, it swung violently wide, almost knocking the bags out of his hands, and Gojyo stormed out. He ignored Goku's outraged yelp, threw them both a red-eyed glare and said, shortly, "He's sleeping." Before they had time to form any questions he had headed off down the street.

"Hey, I got you ramen, if you didn't just spill it!" Goku hollered after him, but Gojyo didn't look back.

With him in that mood, Goku imagined Hakkai's sleep had less to do with actual rest and more to do with putting an argument to rest--which wasn't really like Hakkai, to avoid a disagreement so bluntly, but then it wasn't much like Gojyo to back down from a fight. None of them had been acting like themselves. But Hakkai really was asleep when he and Sanzo got upstairs, curled up on the bed with Hakuryuu sitting on the pillow by his head, ruby eyes keeping watch.

Hakkai still looked tired, even after three quiet days in the inn. Goku doubted he was sleeping well. From the adjacent room he was sharing with Sanzo, he hadn't heard anything during the night, no crying out or whimpers, not like the noise he used to make the first year after Sanzo had gotten him out of the mountain. Recalling those old nightmares still made his skin crawl. Hakkai's dreams might not be as loud, but if they were anywhere near as bad, then he wouldn't be getting much rest even being in bed all night.

Sanzo guessed this, too; they were careful not to disturb Hakkai's sleep now, though Goku didn't like the way he lay there, so quiet and still. Not frightened or sad, but not happy, either; less calm than simply immobile.

They could have eaten their ramen in the other room, but they didn't, sitting on the bed opposite Hakkai's instead. Afterwards, when Goku suggested a card game, Sanzo didn't refuse, though they were both distracted, between watching Hakkai and watching out the window, trying to spot a tall redhead among the intermittent pedestrians. Two-person card games weren't much fun anyway; you really needed at least four people to play poker or whist. Or mah-jong. Living in the house they would be able to play it anytime, instead of having to wait for a tavern or an inn with a flat table large enough to set up the pieces.

Hakkai woke up on their sixth round of rummy. Twilight was falling outside the window and they had turned the lamp on low. Gojyo still hadn't come back, and Goku was staring out the window more than at the cards in his hand. Hakkai sat up with a start and a silent gasp, spun his head toward them. His eyes were wide and his face pale, but he didn't seem surprised to see them, and the flash of fear or grief in his face was gone before it was really identifiable.

He looked around the room, asked quietly, "Gojyo hasn't come back yet?"

"Not yet," Goku told him.

"I see."

"The damn kappa," Sanzo growled. "What'd you say to him?"

Hakkai looked momentarily embarrassed, or maybe more. Wounded; remorseful. Then it was gone again, his face smoothing out like a pond after a tossed stone sinks. "Very little. He said more to me."

"The damn idiot." Sanzo lit a new cigarette, held it between his fingers and watched the tip smolder for a moment. Then he said, tersely, "We almost lost him. Gojyo."

"_What?_" Hakkai launched to his feet. His eyes had gone wide again, white encircling the green.

"Not now," Sanzo said, before Hakkai could bolt from the room. "Before. With you gone--he gave up. Didn't want to go on."

Hakkai sank back down on the bed, slowly. "The journey?"

"That. Or anything else."

"Coward," Hakkai whispered.

"Yes, and we can't afford to drag along cowards. Not on this trip."

"So what are you going to do?"

"If I could do this alone," Sanzo said, "I would. But I can't. Goku and I wouldn't be enough, even with the dragon. So we're waiting, until there's enough. That's the only reason we're staying here."

"But the mission--"

"The holy aspects wanted four. Their decree. They can damn well learn patience."

"Sanzo..."

Goku couldn't sit any longer. He stood. "It's gotten dark. I'm going to go find Gojyo," he said, starting for the door. Then essayed a grin to counter the anxious guilt in Hakkai's eyes. "It won't take long. I know where all the bars in town are." Though he wondered which one might have let Gojyo back in. It had only been a week; they couldn't have forgotten so quickly, much less forgiven...

He was reaching for the doorknob when he heard the familiar tread on the stairs. Opened it in time to see Gojyo drawing back his leg for a kick. "Thanks," Gojyo said instead, and pushed inside, his hands full with a tray of steaming dishes. "The serving girl gave me this downstairs," he said. "Said you guys haven't eaten yet?"

"No!" The curry smelled delicious, but Goku hesitated before serving himself. "Where'd you go?" he asked. Gojyo didn't smell like he had been in a bar--no beer or liquor, just tobacco smoke, and the crisp clean scent of pine and crushed leaves.

"Around town," Gojyo said, vaguely. "The folks here haven't sounded too worried about youkai, I thought I'd check out their defenses. Looks okay, they've got a small standing guard always on duty, and the city wall's kept in good condition, inside and out. Pretty safe. I walked around the forest a bit, didn't see signs of youkai living in the area. There were those few that we took out last week, but they were probably transients, I didn't see any permanent hide-outs."

Goku nodded; it was a smart consideration. Maybe too smart for the kappa, because Sanzo's voice had a hard, suspicious edge. "No youkai?"

"Not any that I saw."

"Not even half of one? Or two halves, maybe?"

Goku, having picked up one of the bowls on the tray, set it down again. Gojyo met Sanzo's violet glare, willfully daring. "No crimson hair in those woods, except mine."

"But you were looking for them," Sanzo said.

Gojyo barely hesitated. "Yeah," he said. "But they're long gone."

"_Idiot._" It might have been Sanzo; it might have been Goku's own words; but Hakkai said it first. He stood up from the bed, hands in fists at his sides. Hakuryuu took flight with a startled squeal, as Hakkai demanded, "How could you be so foolish? Going after them alone, after what they did--"

"I wasn't hunting them," Gojyo said. "I was making sure they really were gone."

"And if they hadn't been?" Sanzo snapped. "If they'd been waiting in ambush instead?"

"I could've gone with you," Goku said. "Together we'd take them, two of us for two of them."

"But there wasn't two of them," Gojyo said. "There were none of them, and I was enough--"

"You were lucky," Sanzo growled, "too damn stupid to be unlucky."

"And what's smart, monk? Sleeping with your revolver in your hand--you're lucky you haven't shot your own nuts off, these last nights. Or put a hole in Goku's head. None of us were going to sleep easy unless we knew for sure they weren't out there--"

"But you didn't have to go alone!"

"You could've followed me, _bakazaru_, if you were that worried I can't take care of myself."

"I'm not _worried_ that you can't take care of yourself," Goku shot back, hearing the anger rising in his own voice without any control, like he was listening to someone else speak. "I know damn well that you can't! You couldn't even walk home from a bar by yourself, but I didn't think you were _this_ stupid."

"How could you do it?" Hakkai asked, and someone else might have mistaken that hint of a tremor in his voice as fear, but Goku knew better and took a step out of his way. "Knowing what they're capable of, knowing what they might do--how could you? If they took you--if they turned you against us--what if you came back here to kill us?"

Gojyo went white, stark contrast to the crimson hair hanging over his face, snow behind flame. But then he brushed aside that red curtain. His eyes were burning. "No problem," he said, "our blessed monk would've put a bullet through my brain before I got a foot inside the door. Right, Sanzo-sama?"

"I can put one there as easily now," Sanzo said, but his voice was stretched, uneven.

"He wouldn't!" Goku exploded. "Sanzo never would've!"

"If he had to," Gojyo said, malice lacing his words. "For the sake of the holy mission. He'd leave all of us in a flat second if he thought he could make it alone. Even you, monkey. Isn't that right, Sanzo-sama?"

"In a millisecond," Sanzo answered, that same cruelty echoed in his own tone. "I wouldn't have traveled a meter with even one of you idiots if I didn't need you. For the holy mission."

"You don't need us," Hakkai said, softly, but it carried over them as if he were screaming. "Without us, you would still find a way. To say that any of us is needed is a lie. If I had truly died then, when you believed I had--you were going on, weren't you? As you had to."

"_No,_" Goku said, and Hakuryuu perched on the closet door frame whimpered, but no one heard them over Gojyo's furious, "But we don't have to. This isn't our damn mission; we're not some stupid bowing bastard monks. We don't have to go anywhere. If we want we can stay here, for as long as we want."

"But do you want to stay here, Gojyo?" Hakkai asked. "Is this really what you want, living in a small dull town, gambling for your daily bread?"

"Hell, maybe I'll get a real job."

Sanzo snorted. "Who's going to hire a halfbreed bastard whose only skills are drinking, seduction, and cheating at poker?"

"Better that than a corrupt monk who never learned any prayers," Gojyo returned, the old insult, but something flashed in his red eyes that made Goku cold to see. "I could fight for money. Seems like other halfbreeds can get mercenary jobs."

And Sanzo's sharp hiss made Goku colder. "Maybe you should find those twin bastards after all. Ask them for a job. You let them live; they owe you."

"I didn't _let_ anyone live," Gojyo said, his baritone dropping to a growl. "They got away. But I should've let you go after them. Who cares if Hakkai needed us, if Goku did--you'd manage without them, if you had to. Would be easier that way. Maybe _you_ should be looking for those two, Sanzo. You could hire them to erase all of us from your mind, and then you could go on your own way without noticing what was missing. Make life easier for you. Forget about me and Hakkai and the ape, and just do your duty."

Sanzo didn't respond, his violet eyes flaring with a heat greater than a blue gas flame, measured breaths hissing through his parted lips. Goku wanted to answer, couldn't. He felt like the air had been knocked from his chest with the butt of a sledgehammer. To forget, like it had never been at all--that was darkness worse than the mountain's.

Into that silence, Hakkai said, with fragile, careful, terrible calm, "Maybe that would be best for all of us. To forget everything--to not be bound by the memory of something we'll never get back, no matter how long we wait."

Gojyo made a small sound, not quite a word. "You know it's true, Gojyo," Hakkai said. "Maybe I'm not dead--but I'm not who I was before, either. I can't be that Hakkai again. I can put this behind me again, as I did before, eventually. But not the same way I did before. It's too different. Even if all I felt and did this time was nothing more than relived memory, it still is real to me. And clearer than it was the first time--I was so badly injured then, sick for so long, you know, Gojyo. But I'm well now, and there's nothing between me and what I know I did, except a name.

"And it's different for you, too, for all of you--you know it is. Even if I wasn't really dead, you still have the memories of it, of what happened after. It's not the same now, you know it isn't. To fight like this, to give up like this, to agree like this--what we had before is gone, and maybe we'd be better off forgetting it."

"_No,_" Goku said. He still hadn't gotten his breath back, so it came out coughed and hoarse. But the other three turned and stared at him. "No," he said again, and it was harder than ever to speak with all their eyes glaring, but he had to. "That's not true. It wouldn't be better, ever.

"Maybe you're right--maybe you're all right, that something was broken. And it's true what Sanzo said; it's true, that once something breaks, you can't unbreak it. You can't make it just like it was, no matter how carefully you put it back together, no matter how long you take.

"But look at this." He picked up one of the rice bowls from the tray--still warm in his hands, though cooling. "Look, Gojyo, you recognize it?" He raised it up to the half-youkai's red eyes.

Gojyo peered at the pottery, then nodded. "It's the bowl I broke this afternoon. That maid must've glued it back together."

"Cheap," Sanzo sniffed. "Easier just to buy a new one."

"Yeah, but why should you?" Goku asked. Under his fingers he could feel the rough edges on the glass glaze, where glue had seeped out between the cracks. It sealed those fractures tight; the bowl wasn't leaking. "You can still use it like this."

"But it's cracked."

"And maybe it's better that way," Goku said. "Because now whenever you see it, the cracks remind you to be careful."

He looked at all of them, holding the bowl, for a long endless moment, until Gojyo turned away, turned back to glare at Sanzo, and for an instant Goku thought it was over. That the glue would melt and the fragments separate and it would all come apart in his hands after all.

Instead Gojyo just said, in a strong firm voice that sounded like a dare, "I don't want to forget." He made a wide gesture with his arm that encompassed everything. "Not any of it. There's too much I can't afford to lose."

Hakkai didn't say anything. Sanzo too was silent; Gojyo said to him, "Could you afford to, Sanzo? Take away the sutra, take away the robes and the chakra, and you're still Genjo Sanzo-houshi-sama, even if no one recognizes you. Take away the ape and everyone would still call you Sanzo, but would you still know who you are?"

Sanzo didn't look at Gojyo, or at Goku, or at anyone. "Take away the bakazaru, take away the smiling idiot, even take away the damn kappa, and I would still and always know who I am." For a long time no one spoke, and then Sanzo concluded, with quiet, ferocious anger, "But it wouldn't be who I'd want to be."

"We can't forget," Gojyo said. "Not when we've made it this far; going back now would be running away. I tried that before but it doesn't work. Not if you're all still here, because you'll always drag me back," and he glanced at Goku, a rueful apology for those nights at the bars before.

Goku nodded to him, _I'd do it again, every time,_ and Gojyo looked past him to Hakkai. "Right, Hakkai?"

Hakkai didn't answer for some time, and the pain of all the unforgotten memories burned in his eyes, lowered to his hands resting in his lap. But at last he said, quietly, "I would rather be who I am now, than anyone I was before. And who I am now, I think...I think I would miss traveling."

With a soft cry Hakuryuu spiraled down from the door frame to perch on his shoulder. Hakkai put up his hand to stroke the dragon's belly. "Yes, I'd miss driving you," he said, and a small, honestly fond smile tugged at his lips as Hakuryuu nuzzled his cheek. "And more, too. And I did agree to do this."

"Yes," Sanzo said. "When you're ready for it. If you're not ready, you're a liability, not an ally, and we can't afford the risk."

"So we'll wait until you're sure," Gojyo said, and let go a long breath that made his shoulders droop, as if all his strength were exhaled with the air. Then he drew in more, re-inflating like a paper balloon, and Goku recognized the gleam in his red eyes even before he winked. "Now give me my dinner, ape," and he reached for the bowl in Goku's hands.

Goku hastily yanked the rice out of reach. "Get your own, there's three other bowls!"

"Yeah, but that one's mine," Gojyo said. "I'm the one who broke it, aren't I?"

"And I'm supposed to trust you with it now? Maybe I should go ask for a wooden bowl--"

"I'm not the kid here, you brat monkey!"

"Pervert cockroach!"

They both saw the warning glitter in Hakkai's eyes as they heard the whistle of paper whipped through the air. Together they ducked as Sanzo's harisen came down on their heads, sharing a conspiring grin even as the monk out-shouted them both.

When they finished eating, Hakkai put all the bowls on the tray outside the door for the maid, then without needing to ask picked up the discarded deck of cards, shuffled and dealt them all poker hands. As casually as if it were merely the next round of the game played a week before, in an inn now burned to rubble and ashes.

They played for low stakes, at first what pocket change they had, then beer and meat buns and cigarettes, and then they started betting chores--a week of dishes, dusting, cleaning the windows (how many did the cottage have?), sweeping, raking (how big was the yard?): promises scribbled on scraps of paper. Hakkai won the most, as usual, and when Gojyo palmed the ace, Hakkai caught him at it the next round; after that it was decided that all of Gojyo's chits counted for twice the written duties. He squawked in outrage but didn't quit playing.

It was well after midnight when Sanzo stopped them; Gojyo had been yawning more than talking, and Goku's eyes were shutting on his cards, so he kept forgetting his hands. And Hakkai was wan in the golden lamplight, but when Goku looked he was smiling, that small but sincere Hakkai smile that meant he wasn't bluffing this time (probably), as Gojyo counted through the paper scraps he had collected, groaning. "You won't have to cook for a year--that's not fair! I have to suffer through the monkey's cooking, just because he can't bluff to save his life?"

"Worse for him, cooking in a kitchen where you're to be taking out the garbage," Sanzo interjected. "I'm sure we'd have better luck asking the six-legged variety of cockroach to do it."

"You could _attempt_ to win them back tomorrow," Hakkai suggested, with artlessly insolent challenge. Both Sanzo and Gojyo glared. Goku just laughed, thinking about cooking in a full kitchen, and a mah-jong table, and cleaning windows; and while he had already eaten in every restaurant in this town, and he understood how anxious Sanzo was to be moving again, for a little while anyway it wouldn't be that boring here.

They were supposed to sleep, but somehow they stayed talking instead; Gojyo insisted that Hakkai needed rest, but he didn't get further than getting into bed, with Hakuryuu on his lap and Sanzo pulling up the chair next to him to continue explaining some point or other from yesterday's newspaper. Goku, flopped down on the floor next to Gojyo with his eyes almost closed, wasn't listening to the words; he just liked the rise and fall of Sanzo's voice, the soft teasing tone of Hakkai's responses.

Gojyo was watching them, too, crimson eyes sleepily half-lidded and his smile an unconscious mirror of Hakkai's, and Goku knew that they were thinking the same thing, remembering how it felt to believe this lost, to believe this night could never happen.

"Hey, Gojyo," Goku asked, keeping his voice down to not interrupt them.

Gojyo yawned, stretching. "Yeah?"

"What happens if one of us does die? Really dead, so we can't just go and find them again?"

Gojyo paused mid-stretch, at last lowered his arms. "Then..." he began, and hesitated, and then shrugged. "Then I guess we'll have to wait until they come find us. Somehow or other."

Goku considered it. Nodded as he put his head down comfortably on his folded arms. "I'd find Sanzo. Somehow."

"Yeah." Gojyo reached down to ruffle his brown hair over the limiter's golden band. "I know."

"And then we'd come find you. Both of you."

"We'd be looking for you, too," Gojyo said.

"We'd find each other," Goku mumbled, yawning. "We did before, didn't we? We always will," and he let his eyes close, knowing the three of them would be there when he woke up.


	21. Evergreen

There was blood, and her crying, smiling face, and more blood, everywhere, all the same shade of red, until he couldn't tell which body was hers, and inside he was screaming but he could make no sound aloud, nothing but the in and out of his panting breaths rasping in his ears. The only sound he could hear and it wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop breathing.

He awoke to a warm weight pressed against his arm, opened his eyes and saw the top of Gojyo's head, the half-youkai sitting on the floor with his head resting on his folded arms and crimson hair draped over them. The color of blood, and yet looking at it, the first memory it sparked was not the recent nightmare, but a years-old flash of those locks cropped short. Gojyo, leaning over the apple stand, his hair a perfect match to the fruits' waxed red skins. Gojyo's expression, when Hakkai had greeted him...

When Hakkai sat up he saw Goku curled on the floor beside the bed, his head pillowed on Gojyo's thigh. Moving carefully so as not to disturb the mattress and Hakuryuu coiled into a sleeping ball at his feet, he climbed out of bed and pulled on his shirt and boots.

A soft cough stopped him as he reached for the doorknob. Looking back, he saw Sanzo, seated in the chair between the beds with his arms folded over his chest, but his head was up, violet eyes open and aware.

Hakkai raised his head to that searching look, met it firmly. "I just thought I would go out and get some breakfast, before they wake up," he said, quietly to not disturb the others.

Sanzo looked at him a moment longer, then nodded. With a flick of his fingers he sent the gold cash card spinning across the room. Hakkai snatched it from the air, and Sanzo said, "Get me some Marlboro Reds."

He only wondered for a moment if he dared. "What's the magic word?"

The heat which flickered in those violet eyes warmed him as much as Gojyo's sleeping face, as Goku's quiet snores. "Menthol," the monk hissed.

The smile curved his lips with no effort or will on his part. "The shops are nearby, right? I should be back in half an hour."

Sanzo nodded.

Outside, the sun had just risen; the morning dew wasn't yet burned away, and the air smelled fresh and damp with the faint scent of coming rain. Shopkeepers were unlocking their doors and people at the market were setting up their stalls, arranging produce and raising canopies. They called friendly greetings to Hakkai as he walked past, and he nodded back politely.

He found the local general store just as the owner came down from his lodgings above it. The old gentleman helpfully took the gold card, went inside and brought him out the packs of cigarettes a minute later, handing over the bag, the card, and the receipt with a casual, comfortable thanks. He pointed out the bakery across the street at Hakkai's question; they were already open, and the smell of warm baking bread filled the air in harmony with the brightening sunlight.

It took him several minutes to decide from the wide selection, and the baker pressed a few more filled buns on him when she heard he was shopping for four--"You're with that golden-eyed kid, aren't you? Better take these to fill that bottomless stomach!" The big woman laughed and winked at him as she slipped an extra pastry into the bag with everything else. "Treat for a new customer, to keep you coming back. I'd eat it quick, before your friend sees it."

On the way back to the inn, Hakkai stopped at the fruit stand, now set up and open for business, its wares a rainbow under the plain beige awning. Oranges, grapes, melons, apples--it had been a while since they had had apples, and these were a delicious shining red and mottled green. Bags slung in the crook of his arm, he hefted a large one in one hand, feeling for bruises.

The bright high sound of children shouting echoed through the quiet square, as two little boys ran past, shrieking insults at one another. Hakkai automatically stepped out of their way before he could be run down, and someone with the same intent bumped into him from behind.

"Excuse me!" the girl said, stumbling. "Those brats--"

Hakkai steadied her with a hand on her arm. "It's no trouble."

"Oh, they're plenty of trouble," she returned. "I should know, one's my nephew." She pushed auburn curls out of her eyes, looked up at him. "Hello," she said. "You're new here?"

"We've been in town a couple days," Hakkai said, "my three friends and I. We're staying at the inn now."

"Ah, I see." She said it as politely and friendly as everyone else had spoken, but she peered at him with a strange intensity, studying his face with searching hazel eyes. She was a pretty enough woman, just Gojyo's type, Hakkai thought, if on the young side; but something about the focus of her gaze made him uncomfortable, and not because it was flirting.

He was about to excuse himself when she said, "You're his friend, aren't you. The boy with the beautiful red hair. He's got a couple scars here," and she indicated her cheek.

"Yes, that's Gojyo," Hakkai said, not surprised, though he wondered a little that she didn't know his name. Gojyo usually gave his trysts that much.

"So there's four of you now," she said. "Last week weren't there only three?"

"I...wasn't with them last week," Hakkai said.

"Ah," she said again. "So that's..." She touched her chin thoughtfully for a moment, and then smiled, a flash of white teeth that changed her face from pretty to almost beautiful. "So you might be staying in town a while? I heard last night that your friend was asking about renting Lin Gao's place."

"Yes, he was..." Hakkai looked over her shoulder at the town square behind her. The market stands, sellers calling cheerful hallos to one another as the first customers of the day arrived, as they must do every morning. The two boys had caught each other and were wrestling in the muddy street, laughing. Around them spread the town, little one- and two-story houses huddled together behind the gray walls, and beyond that the green forest, leaves brilliant in the sunlight. There were a few clouds now, and more gathering in the northern corner of the sky, but the sun was rising in the clear blue east.

Gyuu-maoh was thousands of miles away, too far for the people in this peaceful town to have even heard of him. Perhaps someday youkai might come in force enough to be a danger. For now, however, it was safe here. Lovely and quiet, the kind of place you could settle and grow old, and live every day as content and tranquil as the day before and the day before that.

He would still be awakening to nightmares of the past for sometime yet, he knew that. But when he woke up, they all would be there, reminding him of all the years, and more, that separated him from the memories. How he was not who he had been then, and never would be again.

But then, if they were in another inn in a different town, on another road in a different forest, they would still be with him. On the road, no one could be sure of what the next day would bring, every morning something different, somewhere different. But they would be there. Awake or sleeping, broken or fixed, they would be there.

Someday he could come back to this town, or the one where he had lived with Gojyo before, or another like them. Maybe a town far away in the northeast mountains, with heart enough to accept a pair of halfblood twins as its own, in spite of the taboos. The towns would still be here after Gyuu-maoh's threat was gone, and these peaceful days could go on, tomorrow and the day after and every day after that.

But not now. _Whatever you want_, Goku had said, and now, standing in this gentle town square with an apple in his hand and the scent of rain in the air, Hakkai knew what that was.

"No," he told the girl. "My friend was asking about the cottage, but it's not what we're looking for after all. We're going to be leaving today. This morning, I think, as soon as I get back."

"Oh," she said, perhaps a little surprised, not really disappointed. "If it's going to be so soon..." She cocked her head at him. "Would you mind passing on something to your friend--Gojyo, was it?--from me?"

Hakkai suppressed a sigh with a patient smile. "I wouldn't mind at all," he told her.

"Then please give him this," and she rose on her tiptoes, took Hakkai's face in her hands and kissed his cheek, a quick warm press of her lips.

"Thank you," she told him as her hands fell away. She was barely blushing, only the faintest hint of pink risen to her cheeks.

Hakkai felt his own warming, forced it down. "Is that all?"

"No," she said. "There's one more thing," and she leaned forward again, lips almost brushing his ear. "Take care of yourself," she said. "For him, and the other ones, too."

Then she turned and walked away, heels clicking on the cobblestones, waving and calling back over her shoulder, "Have a good trip!"

"Thank you." Hakkai waved back, then glanced at the fruitseller. The man was watching and trying to pretend he wasn't. From her make-up and dress, and the expression twisting the man's face, he could make a reasonable hypothesis as to the girl's profession.

But then he wasn't likely to be back here for a long time anyway. Hakkai smiled directly into the face of the vendor's embarrassment, remarked, "Such a pleasant young lady makes the whole morning brighter, don't you think?" and bought four apples and a few ripe peaches. Those wouldn't last long jouncing in Hakuryuu, but Goku would easily finish them off before they bruised. He stopped at the next seller as well and purchased enough meat buns for an evening meal.

The storm clouds had almost covered the sun, but not quite, and he enjoyed its last rays as he crossed the street back to the inn, shifting the shopping bags to free a hand to open the door. Goku and Gojyo were up; he could hear them as he climbed the stairs, Goku's hungry whine, "He said he was getting breakfast?" and Gojyo demanding, "He said half an hour? Hasn't it been longer? Are you sure--"

"I'm back," Hakkai said, opening the door. They all turned toward him, Goku beaming as he saw the food, Gojyo grinning at him, and even Sanzo came close to a smirk as Hakkai handed over his cigarettes. Hakuryuu gave a high glad cry and flew to him in a flurry of white wings. "Please go outside to the street," Hakkai requested of the dragon, "we'll be down in a minute."

Hakuryuu chirped obediently and glided out the window. Hakkai looked at the others, the three of them watching him. Waiting for him. Sanzo with his impatient endurance, Goku eager and helpful, Gojyo anxious but trying not to be, trying not to put any more pressure on him than what he already exerted just by being. What they all put on each other.

Waiting for him, as they always would. As long as he needed.

And in that, he had all he needed.

"Are you packed?" Hakkai said. "We want to leave as soon as possible. It's going to rain soon."

**Author's Note:**

> So, here we are, almost three and a half years after this story was begun. It's been a long ride, and I hope it was worth it. My sincere and thrilled thanks to everyone who's read it through - a story's not truly a story without an audience, so thank you for making this a true story. I must in particular thank Gnine, for (as usual) starting me on the path of this story and driving me to the scene of Gojyo holding Hakkai that she wanted; stitcher2ficcer for various beta-duty and necessary encouragement, and Naye for always saying the best things, both what I want to hear and what I need to know. And my especial thanks to everyone who took the time to leave a review and made my day by letting me know you liked it, that it moved you, that I entertained you.
> 
> And of course, all my gratitude to Minekura-sensei, who created characters as marvelous as these. Gojyo, Sanzo, Goku, and Hakkai are such incredibly vivid, intense souls, and their relationships are so complex, that playing with them is well-nigh irresistible. If I managed to get them recognizably in character, then the credit must go to Minekura-sensei, who writes them such that I have trouble seeing them any other way. All mistakes otherwise are my own.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Clear-headed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/99690) by [Xparrot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xparrot/pseuds/Xparrot)




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